#Lord Morpheus x reader

[darklinsblog]

Bring Me To Life| Sandman Imagine

Summary: Y/N is part of the Burgess family, somewhat of a black sheep, when she finds the prisoner her family has kept for 90 years, your father finds a way to dispose of his own daughter. Imprisoning her with The Dream Lord.

Pairing: Morpheus x Burguess! Reader

Requested: Yes

Author’s note: Will be updating my tag list so please comment if you want in on out of it!

You were always aware you were different from your family, they were always so shallow, empty, even.

Your father was nephew of the wealthy Roderick Burgess, and if Roderick was cruel and despicable, your father Maurice was much more worse.

For starters, he had way too many children, you were clearly the one in the middle, having many responsibilities that no child should have at your age, and even when you did everything you could to earn your father’s love and acceptance, you only got hatred in return.

He genuinely hated your guts.

His words, not yours.

But still someone a part of you was holding onto hope that maybe one day he would learn to love you.

While you waited for that day to come, you did your best to blend into the background, which for the record, wasn’t hard at all with six teens running around the house screaming all day long.

By your twenties you were a master of truly “minding your shit” as your father used to tell you, one particular day, everyone had gone hunting as the only female, it was easy to leave you behind.

You would be lying if you said that you weren’t bored out of your mind after a while, and then like a light switch, you remembered the house had a basement.

As any forgotten part of the house, you were told multiple times to leave it, to never even think of it, but at least the mysterious basement had to be more interesting than this empty mansion.

What you did not prepare for, was to find some… being trapped in a glass prison, he seemed like a man but something about him felt supernatural, extraordinary even.

His eyes followed even the slightest of your moves. As your fingertips merely crashed the cold surface of the glass, the eyes of the “man” opened wider, a distorted reflection of your father’s knowing figure, holding s large object, but before you could turn to face him.

All was suddenly black after a sharp pain hit the back of your neck and a buzz on your ears.

As you regained consciousness, your senses buzzed, everything somehow felt colder, lonelier, wrong…

When turning your head, you noticed the being you were staring at on the other side of the glass; only this time, he was right beside you.

Completely startled you backed away, until you met the cold surface of the bubble you were now trapped in.

You noticed more now the nakedness of the man (that is to refer to him because quite frankly, he was anything but human), which made your cheeks turn red and more than ever you appreciated your own clothes.

Tears were streaming down your face quietly and you wiped them away as soon as the left your eyes, embarrassed for this stranger to see you at your very worst.

“Morpheus”.

A voice inside your head spoke calmly but loudly, you turned to see the man beside you, empathy could be seen in his features, his hand softly grazing yours.

It had been so long since he last touched anyone, your skin felt soft and warm to the touch, it was something that now his heart longed for.

You didn’t know what it was, maybe the despair of being trapped here for God knows how long, the confusion and anger that came as to why you were here or the overall sadness.

Whatever it might’ve been, you found yourself embracing Morpheus softly by the neck, hiding your face as you sobbed lightly.

The Dream Lord was startled at first, but delicately his hands found a place in your back and to your waist he was letting you have complete control over this moment, he did not wish to touch you in any way that would make you uncomfortable.

He let you hold onto him as long and as hard as you needed to, but he knew his role there was only to contain your sadness until it went away.

“It is nice to know you, Morpheus” you whispered in his ear after a long period of sadness.

Ten long years had passed since you were trapped in the bubble prison with Morpheus, and you would be lying if you said you hadn’t developed a particular affection towards each other as well as a complex non-spoken communication between the two, he would let his voice echo your mind every now and then, but mostly, by simply looking at each other it was enough to know it all.

It hurt to think that nobody was looking for you, but then again, you would not be surprised by this, yet, a naive part of you thought maybe they were looking. Truth be told, if they were, they would’ve found you by now. After all, you were still in the same damn house.

But today something happened, Alex Burgess, your uncle, had gone down to see you two, it had been years since you saw him, but he was indeed, fragile and old, almost at the end of his days.

His eyes fell on you, you could see the sense of recognition in his gaze but quickly his eyes diverted to the King of dreams, completely disregarding your presence.

You held onto Morpheus’ arm trying to hold back on your anger as Alex Burgess went on his monologue to the King of Dreams about how he had done wrong in not wanting to be free all those years ago.

But you understood his motives as to why he didn’t chose freedom, his companion deserved that the perpetrators of her cold blooded murder paid the price.

Truth be told, it also did rub the wrong way to Morpheus how your own blood ignored you, after spending a decade by your side, he had gotten to know your very essence and in full honesty, you deserved something better than the rotten tree you were born in.

But something happened, as Alex turned his wheels to leave, the restraining runes were slightly wiped off.

You both looked at one another, acknowledging the window of opportunity you were given by the neglect of Alex.

For the first time in a decade you recognized in the eyes of the other, the almost foreign sentiment of hope, you step aside, letting Morpheus concentrate as you understood the only one who could set you free now was him.

Everything to you, seemed to happen in the blink of an eye, the cracks, the breaking, the shots fired and as Morpheus conjured some sort of vortex, he stretched out his hand for you to reach.

Going with him, was tempting, but you knew now as you stood in front of him, your journeys were very different, he had a kingdom to restore while you had to figure your own identity outside of the Burgess last name, to find if, you had any other living relatives, to find answers to all your questions.

You smiled at him, in a way which he understood it all.

“There will always be a place for you in the Dreaming Y/N Burgess” he finally spoke, after all those ages of silence, it wasn’t just a voice echoing in your brain, it was real.

You nodded, at the very edge of tears, the mixture of relief and nostalgia for this chapter of your life ending becoming all so overwhelming.

“I’ll come and find you, King of Dreams” you promised to him, the corners of his mouth lifting in the ghost of a smile.

“Till we meet again” he said taking your hand and planting a subtle kiss on it before going back to his world.

Leaving you be in yours.

But even as the chapter of your imprisonment came to and end, you knew, deep in your heart, your story with the myth in the flesh, was far from over.

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[eviesaurusrex]

ɢʀɪᴇꜰ | ʟᴏʀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴘʜᴇᴜꜱ

GIFs not mine!

Lord Morpheus x Deity!Reader (Goddess of Nature and Music)

summary: In the wake of his own capture, his queen was imprisoned too.

word count: 971

warnings: angst, seriously, this is angsty, blood, Morpheus wants to burn the Waking World to ashes

author’s note: My first Morpheus work, and we’re directly starting with something short and angsty xD I’m so unhappy with how this turned out, but I’m pushing myself to upload these types of works anyway because I’m my biggest critic and all that. Plus, I’m shitty at writing pure angst. But we’ll deal with this for now before we’re gonna turn to the fluffy part of writing for this god of a man <3

»part 2? part 2.«

;

His eyes were trained on the woman lying next to him on the solid, cold ground. His hand outstretched, his fingers twitching desperately in order to reach her. Only mere inches parted them, but the existence of the laughable distance was mocking him in its impossibility to overcome. Not in his current state.

Dry lips moved slowly, forming words without letting a single sound escape; the agony too consuming to mutter a single syllable. Morpheus was not even convinced she could hear him if he would succeed in calling her name, trying to nudge her mind back into consciousness with the power of his voice. A helpless sound was the only audible thing escaping his parted lips.

And then, abnormal darkness engulfed him once more.

—

His returning consciousness let him move his hand again, but instead of finally palpating the silk-like skin of his wife underneath his fingertips, the Lord of Dreams touched icy cold glass. Unsteadily, he opened his distinct blue eyes, which once held the entire universe in them, but now only pictured the void of a pitch-black night sky. He felt so heavy, his mind slow, his body not responding the way it was supposed to. The loss of his powers was something he almost missed because his tired eyes suddenly rested on red droplets scattering the dirty stone floor.

With a silent groan, Morpheus pushed himself up on his bare knees, blinking rapidly to sharpen his eyesight in the dimly lit basement. Suddenly, he wished he had not done it as every single ounce of air was pushed out of his lungs as if he had fallen from a high looming tower and crashed onto the ground. He felt as if he would suffocate in a matter of fleeting moments; his eyes trained motionless on the pool of blood surrounding a body he knew better than his own.

YN’s eyes blinked slowly, her chest rose barely perceptible for a human’s eye, the fingertips of her outstretched arm trying to find a hold of this realm. Morpheus knew she made an effort to anchor herself so Death could come and bring her back into the Dreaming before every ounce of life had left her body. But he could feel with every agonizing piece of his soul how life slowly faded out of her bright shining eyes, forever reminding him of Fiddler’s Green and every single vegetation that grew in their realm. His heart ached heavily in his chest, tears blurring his sight, and both hands were pressed onto the glass, trying to push through it to get to her, to protect her just as she obviously had done for him.

“YN.” His voice broke in the middle of her name, unable to speak it out, to taste every syllable of it on his lips, letting it flood his mind to ease a pain he had never experienced, never had suffered before. The salty lakes his eyes had turned into overflowed, and still, he didn’t dare to move his gaze from her, not even as his capturer stepped into her blood. Raging fury and hatred burned his insides as the human closed his hands around her throat and neck to lift her off the ground, pressing her body onto the sphere, facing lover to lover. Her eyes, which tended to change their colors frequently, stared dull and lifeless into his own, and despite her dying state, YN managed to grant him the sight of the attempt of one of her beautiful smiles, which always illuminated his life and the Dreaming, bringing comfort and joy.

“Poor little thing. You see, she tried to save you, and I cannot let that happen. So… Her pitiful death is practically your wrongdoing.” Morpheus almost did not listen to the echoing voice, instead holding the last remnants of her gaze captured in his, salty crystals flowing over both faces, connecting them in their pain and loss though separated by sorcery. Her lips gently moved, only visible to his eyes, and he started to make out her words as her eyes lost the last specks of life and her body went limp. The man only let her drop to the floor, where she landed in her own blood, shedded in her attempts to protect him as they had promised one another on the night of their wedding under the darkest but most ethereal firmament ever seen by the eyes of humans, deities, and endless.

With burning rage in his now flaming blue irises filled with a darkening void that swallowed every other emotion in its wake, the Lord of Dreams slowly stared up at his jailer, his heart only knowing hatred anymore. He wanted to see this world burn, but in particular, he craved to see this human burn—the one who had robbed him of his wife and queen, the love of his existence. He wanted to hear him beg for mercy. He wanted to listen to his piercing screams filled with agony, and he would not even stop when he was certain the man had learned his lesson before ending his life with his own bare hands. Morpheus would relish in the afterglow of his glorious vengeance before turning his gaze to the rest of this degenerated order to end every single life himself.

And maybe, after the last scream had faded, he would be satisfied to finally mourn the only woman he had ever wanted.

His gaze settled back onto her body after their capturer left him with her; tears continuing to cover his skin and drowning his soul in anguish and torment which didn’t leave him—

Not even after a century of imprisonment and her gentle voice wandering through his mind, repeating her last words to him over and over.

I will find you in my next existence, my love.

;

I kinda don’t like it, but hey, it’s my first time writing for my baby, so that’s okay. Hope y’all enjoyed it anyway. As usual: Comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated! <3

[ofsappho]

Treehouse chapter 32 preview

After wrapping yourself up in a warm sweater and sliding your feet into fleece-lined slippers, because good God is the Dreaming cold all the damn time, you set out in search of Morpheus.

The marble tiles lead you to him, reflecting your intentions. It was odd the first time you found yourself practically deposited by the castle itself in the kitchens when you wanted tea, but now you just relax and let it happen.

The throne room again. You don’t think you’ll ever stop blushing when you see Morpheus’s grand, ornately carved chair.

He’s not on it. Instead, you find him lingering on the steps to the throne, laying back as rain seeps through the ceiling to drench him in a perpetually-refilling, miserable-looking puddle. His dark hair sticks to his forehead and he stares aimlessly into space, his hands folded under his head.

The whole thing is a little pathetic, honestly.

You dance out of the way of a stray stream of rainwater before it soaks into your slippers.

“Morpheus,” You call out, stepping only where you’re sure it’s dry.

When he shoots up into a sitting position, he almost falls down a step. The puddle soaking into his black coat grows larger.

Without thinking, you giggle at Morpheus’s uncharacteristic clumsiness, making a warm, happy noise that seems to make the inside rain disappear altogether.

This is how it’s supposed to be between you and him. The realization hits you like a flash of lightning.

This is what you want your future to look like.

[certifiedskywalker]

O' Sweet Simplicity - Dream of The Endless

Lord Morpheus does not often indulge, but, when he does, he does with you. 

“Coffee? Tea?” You paused, teasingly. “Me?”

A chuckle rumbled up his throat before he recognized the sound as such. How long had it been since he last let his joy be heard? How long had it been since he last felt a joy so potent to stir up such a sound? The Lord of Dreams could not recall.

“It is not often that I have to choose between varying degrees of goodness,” he said his low voice breaking through the lingering chuckle caught in his otherwise chronically mirthless throat. “It is not often that I have to choose.”

“Well,” you said, titling on your toes to turn towards him, eyes brightened by your smile. “I’ll make things a little easier for you. Come over here a choose a flavor of tea.”

With the faintest hints of a smile playing on his lips, Morpheus started over towards you. His tread was quiet, bare feet padding against the malleable floor of your Dream. This time, it appeared as an apartment. Sleek and modern save for the scattered trinkets that were you. Morpheus merely filled in the empty spaces.

Like around your waist. There, Morpheus put his arms.

“That is not what I would have chosen.”

You hummed and Morpheus felt the sound bloom as he pulled your back flush to his chest. “Well, then next time, I imagine there will be a little less lip and more choosing.”

Next time. It sounded like a promise. One unmoored and unable to be truly kept, unable to be truly broken. You said it each time he visited you. So, he knew what was coming next.

Lucidity.

Morpheus pressed his face into the crook of your neck. Soft lips pressed into soft flesh, and you careened into the touch. Your head rested atop his with his hair tickling your skin whenever he moved to kiss an untraced spot. Another hum sounded up your throat and Morpheus let the tip of his nose brush against your jaw as he pulled away.

Chasing after him, his touch, you turned in Morpheus’ arms. A pair of glittering, blue eyes were fixed on you, seeing through you, the veil of a Dream. He wondered then, how he appeared to you. Did he look like his chosen form or someone from your past?

Soon, his wondering would matter not.

“You know, I don’t mind this lip,” you murmured, leaning up towards him. Your breath danced along his skin and your hands rested on his bare shoulders for support as you drew in closer. When at last your mouth met his in a perfect seal, Morpheus savored the feeling. His being bled into yours in the truest sense of Endless. It made it so that, when your eyes fluttered closed in time with his, you both saw the cosmos.

His hands felt cool as he rested them on the sides of your warm face. Slender fingers cupped your cheeks with such a tender reverence. He held you like glass as your Dream slipped from his grasp and fully into yours. There it was. He felt it in how your lips moved against his like there was no longer space for him to fill.

Slowly, you pulled away from Morpheus, and so were the last bits of Dream pulled away too. Your hands moved up from his shoulders and skirted about his pronounced collarbone. A swift breath fell from Morpheus’ lips when your palm pressed against his throat.

“You’re awake.”

“Am I?” You asked, tone sharp and fingers tracing the peaks of his pale face as you did each time you broke free. “You only visit when I’m dreaming and you’re still here. Tell me, do you prefer me docile in my Dream or when I’m aware like this?”

Morpheus bit his tongue before his old ways of bitterness fell from the tip of it. At his silence, your hands fell from his face and to your sides, empty. A scowl had replaced the smile you wore before, but it carried a similar heat. With lucidity came the shedding of pretense.

“Well? Which is it?”

“It is not often that I have to choose.”

You let out a huff at his echoed words. “At least tell me why you come back. Why?”

Morpheus glanced around the apartment. Despite your lucidity, the original setting of your Dream remained intact. Even the pieces he curated stayed situated between your trinkets and bobbles. How easily you could erase each trace of him from your Dream, your home; but you chose not to, you chose to keep him around.

“Your Dreams are of such simplicity. A late morning or early night, but always shared.”

“Shared with whatever face you wear before I wake up.”

“But you’re not awake, as you pointed out,” Morpheus mused, craning his neck down towards you. “You chose to stay here, even after you become aware.”

“I like it here,” you countered.

Morpheus leaned in closer until he felt your breath dance along his skin again in a waltz. “You chose me. You keep me here until you truly wake.”

“I like you. I think.”

He loomed now, arms snaking about your waist once more. No space for him made he had no choice but to invade yours. “You think?”

“I do.”

“You are the Master of your Dream now,” Morpheus pressed. “You should know.”“And you, the Master of every other Dream, know?”

He did, but he bit his tongue again. It was you who had to choose. Morpheus had already made his choice. He had made it the first time he indulged in your lucid dreaming. Power was out of his hands, and, for the first time, he found himself enjoying it.

“Well, then let’s not wait until next time.”

Soft lips met soft flesh again, and the Dream changed. The apartment kitchen melted into a bedroom full of space for just the two of you.

[fadingsnow]

Hello! I hope you’re good 😊 I’m just getting in touch with a Sandman request, I would love to see a piece where Dream joins reader for a swim! This might not be something you want to write, so no worries. Also it doesn’t have to be NSFW, but take it anywhere you want! I just think he’s got a whole dream ocean, the potential is there 🌊

MIDNIGHT SWIM - DREAM x f! reader

SUMMARY AND TW: When you enter the Dreaming, you realize just like the human world, there's oceans as well, so why not go for a swim with the king of Dreams?

A/N: I hope you don't mind I did not add nsfw content, I just didn't know how to really add it in here :)!

You understood that the Dreaming would forever hold a place deep inside your being, a cherished sanctuary where love and dreams intersected. Or all, since Morpheus is the personification of dreams. And with Morpheus by your side, you would continue to explore the realms of the Sleeping Marches, together, as one. Perhaps he had finally taken you seriously, when you always made jokes about swimming with him in the large ocean that exists within the Dreaming, a vast realm filled with different possibilities. You could hardly think about swimming though at the moment, as you fell asleep, your head hitting the soft pillow with wishes of seeing the Sandman with all his power.

You found yourself standing at the edge of a tranquil ocean, surrounded by an ethereal glow that emanates from the Dreaming. The peaceful waters shimmer in hues of midnight blue, reflecting the stars hanging in the sky above. You take a deep breath, feeling a sense of anticipation tugging at your heart. It was hard to even believe such a thing existed, it was so vast, filled with some unknown mysteries under it. Maybe, you'd just stay only close to the surface.

As you gazed upon the serene scenery, you suddenly became aware of a figure approaching from the distance. With each step, the soft grass beneath their feet seems to whisper with reverence. It is none but Morpheus, the lord of dreams himself.

His dark, flowing hair cascades over his shoulders, as if mimicking the undulating movements of the Dreaming. His eyes, deep and endless, hold a warmth that belies his title as the ruler of the realm. His presence alone fills the air with a serene energy, drawing you closer with each passing moment. He tilts his head at you to give you acknowledgement, a warm expression shown on his face.

Without a word, Morpheus extends his hand towards you, a silent invitation to join him in the depths of his kingdom. You take his hand, the softness of it, feeling an electric spark at the contact. A smile graces Morpheus' lips as he leads you toward the edge of the ocean.

His piercing silver-blue eyes met yours, and in them, you saw a glimmer of rare vulnerability. "Would you care to join me for a swim?" he asked, nervously, as though he hesistated and thought that you would reject his offer.

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you took his hand, feeling the weight of anticipation and exhilaration build within you. As you lowered yourself into the water, a soft warmth enveloped your body, and your senses became keenly aware of every sensation.

Morpheus moved with grace and fluidity as he swam beside you, his obsidian hair dancing upon the water's surface. His presence was magnetic, as if the very essence of dreams and imagination pulsed through his veins. It was as if the Dreaming itself had come alive in his presence.

With each step into the pristine waters, ripples of anticipation dance across your skin. The Dreaming greets you warmly, embracing you as its own. As you wade into waist-high depths, Morpheus guides you further, until the water envelopes both of you.

Together, you begin to swim, the silky touch of the Dreaming's waters caressing your skin. As you move, your synchronized strokes create a symphony of tranquility, a dance between mortal and ethereal, as if the Dreaming itself is responding to your presence.

Morpheus' eyes never leave yours, his gaze filled with an understanding that transcends words. In this intimate moment, the boundaries between reality and dreams blur, allowing you to fully immerse yourself in the depths of the Dreaming alongside him.

At last, the two of you found yourselves floating gently beneath an ethereal waterfall, one that seemed to cascade into infinity. Droplets danced upon your skin like stardust, mingling with the memories of countless dreamers who had passed through this realm.

Morpheus drew closer, his features illuminated by the celestial glow. His eyes searched yours, searching for confirmation, for consent, for a desire that matched his own. And in that moment, with the realization that the Dreaming held a love between you that was boundless and all-encompassing, you gave yourself to him.

With every stroke, you feel a sense of freedom wash over you, a release from the constraints of the waking world. The weight of your worries and burdens vanish, replaced by an inexplicable connection to the infinite possibilities of dreams.

Time seems to lose its meaning as you and Morpheus enjoy this moment of pure intimacy. The water cradles you, its embrace a testament to the boundless love that exists between you. In this surreal landscape, you immerse yourself in the joy of being with Morpheus, knowing that this union transcends the boundaries of reality.

As the moon casts its gentle glow upon your entwined forms, you both emerge from the embrace of the Dreaming's waters. A sense of contentment washes over you, leaving behind memories that will never fade.

Morpheus turns to you, not being able to decipher his thoughts, perhaps that's one of the qualities of being an Endless. He simply walks over to you, and plants a soft kiss on your lips, in which you give back. "I'd take you anywhere throughout the Dreaming to make you joyous." He murmured in your ear, putting little kisses on your neck.

In that moment, you realize that being able to swim in the Dreaming was not just a mere encounter, but an affirmation of the love that blossoms between you and Morpheus. He chose for you to go to the ocean in the Dreaming, because he loves you.

[igotanidea]

Gift shopping : Morpheus x reader

Christmas bingo day 17: gift shopping

She loved Christmas. Truly. Every tradition, every dish, every carol. All that came with the holiday season.

Except one thing.

Gift shopping.

Wondering around the stalls trying to figure out what the donee would like was a literal nightmare. Doing her best to choose something better and at least a bit more original then the scented toiletries set became equal to being slowly burned on the stake in her mind. The hell was she supposed to know what smell of a body wash would her cousin like? Or what colour was her aunt's favourite?

And that itself wouldn't even be the worst if it wasn't for the advertisements coming from every way giving her anxiety.

But when she suggested that maybe the family could do one year without the presents they all gave her as condemning looks as if she was at least an antichrist.

Damn.

She was putting off this duty for so long, repressing it from her mind that in the end, she was forced to rush through the shops at the last minute, feeling the pressure on her shoulders. Which was also bad for her self esteem cause y/n was always considered the one with the greatest and most creative ideas.

Yes, but only given the right amount of time, not acting in a hurry.

But what she didn't expect was to end up sleeping on her desk one night and getting some help.

Once she opened her eyes, she was in a quite different place. Yes, it did look like her hometown, but giving a strange vibe that only confirmed her beliefs that she was in fact far away from reality.

"Lucid dreaming" she muttered to herself with a deep sigh. Waking up (sort of) in dream's domain and co conscious about it could only mean one thing. She was here for bussiness. Morpheus wanted something from her, cause he rarely did things selflessly. "Dream of the endless!" She called "how can I be of service to you today?!"

The silence was the only answer she got, and such treatment made her groan in frustration. She really didn't have time for silky games with Dream, the duties falling upon her shoulders...

"you are in the only place when imagination knows no bounds and you dare complaining?"

"I'm merely thinking." She retorted crossing her arms. "Lord Morpheus."

"long time no see y/n"

"don't tell me you missed me or something."

"one cannot really miss the way you address him"

"that's not the answer. Why am I here?"

Dream didn't answer instead turning his back to her and starting walking ahead not even caring whether she follows.

Which she didn't not really wanting to give him satisfaction of complying. At least not until the ground started cracking behind her and she was forced to rush after dream, causing about him acting like a kid.

"Morpheus." She said getting bold enough to use his name even though he ignored her once again. "Morpheus." She repeated, foolishly hoping for another outcome but it was futile. "Lord Morpheus" finally the official title made him look at her with tiniest amused smile.

"yes?"

"why am I here, um- consciously?"

"your imagination seems to be running short."

"not sure if that's an offence, state of facts ot reveling that you were stalking me..."

"you think too much of yourself" he said with the flat voice leading her across the dreaming bridge

"then why-?"

"I'm going to boost it"

"boost what?" Now she was almost running after him trying to keep up the tempo pretty sure he was making her move slower on purpose. "My imagination? Why? To prove you are better or something? You're the lord of the dreams, damnit, a creature of centuries old. I think it's pretty obvious you are more qualified in the ideas subject than me."

He didn't even give her a word of response, guiding her inside the palace to the ground where no one else was allowed to and it was making less and less sense by a second. And since asking questions was obviously pointless she decided to just settle on observation. Taking it the huge Christmas tree, decorations placed here and there and colours that seemed to take over the whole palace. It gave such a contrasting vibe to the usual outlook of the place and dream's character that it left the girl with eyes wide and mouth agape.

"you did this?" She whispered almost feeling the warmth coming from the interior instead of darkness and gloominess.

"dreamers did" Morpheus retorted sternly, but time it had a tone of softness to it. "It's the only thing on their mind of late."

"you could have prevented it though. And didn't." She smiled "never took you as for a fan of festivities"

"why?" Dream seemed truly interested about it.

"why?" There were so many reasons to assume that he didn't enjoy Christmas but she was not going to bring them up "I don't know. Maybe I was being judgemental, sorry. It is actually pretty beautiful. Holiday spirit kingdom of dreams" she pointed out, her gaze now resting on the boxes under the tree.

"You can open them."

"i can what now?" She frowned in confusion even though her hands were tingling in anticipation to see what was hidden inside "why?"

"cause you lack inspiration." The answer made her frown even more.

"and you're really going to help me out here?" There was this little fear in the back of her mind that if she didn't follow the order she would actually encounter some nightmares on her way. "Why? Why would you--" it made zero sense. She was just a human with no greater meaning. A human, whose path happened to cross with Dream's when he was retrieving his attributes and restoring his kingdom back to greatness. She meant nothing, right?

Right?

Dream didn't make it easy on her giving her the silence and just pointing towards the packages stacked under the tree. Leaving her with no choice but to grab the closest one and pulling at the ribbon, innate curiousity taking over.

However, before she could actually take a peek inside -

"y/n! Y/n wake up! We've overslept! We'll be late for classes!"

Shit.

Y/n could not care less about adulting, duties and classes right now, torn from the Christmas version of the Dreaming, groaning at the lost opportunity of seeing what Morpheus considered a gift. And getting her imagination boosted. Once in a lifetime opportunity cause she was aware Dream would not be generous again.

Shit

But her still hazy mind, slowly started working and much to her surprise she found out, that even without seeing the box in the Dreaming actually got the gifts ideas.

***

"did your family like the presents?"

"they actually did, thank you" she smiled softly as the familiar dark dressed silhouette joined her on the bridge. She has been watching the skaters on the ice rink, not really expecting company but dream's appearance was actually warmly welcomed.

"it was all you who did this. It was your imagination"

"Maybe. But it was only because I was given the right incentive" her eyes sparkled a bit as she gave him a happy look "thank you Morpheus, even though I still don't understand why you did it. Guess I'll be left waiting for some sort of collecting the debt on your part" she chuckled before turning head back to watch the people skating.

Maybe that was why she missed the tiny amused smile formed on Dream lord's face.

The smile that was screaming without words.

This was not a debt he was going to collect in the future. Not when it came to her.

[sporadically-writing]

Morpheus w/ An S/O Who Keeps A Dream Journal

You had kept a dream journal long before you met the King of Dreams himself.

You had been disappointed a long time ago about how little you remembered of your dreams.

You did the research and found that writing it down seemed to help others so you started doing it. What little you could remember, you would write down and it started to build up your tolerance of memory in this regard.

You’d remember more and more needing more pages to fit it in.

You aren’t sure exactly when your dream journal became more of a diary but it had.

It was really strange. It was almost as if you were living a whole second life while you were asleep.

Even stranger still was the recurring handsome figure you’d begun to see more often.

Eventually you and Morpheus found each other, making friends after a while and then developing into something more than that.

He would even visit you in the waking world from time to time. Which, in case you haven’t already guessed, is how he found out about your journal.

You had been held up a bit in traffic and Dream had already invited himself into your home assuming you were already there. He was wrong but that was okay, he assumed (correctly this time) that you would be in soon.

So, in the meantime, he wandered around, looking at the various things you had in your home. He’d been here a few times but he’s always been far more focused on you than the books on the coffee table or the trinkets on the mantle.

Now that he wasn’t distracted, he could investigate the objects you decorated your space with.

Dream had become far more tolerant of human objects since his little adventure with Johanna Constantine and he was especially interested in learning a little more about you.

Eventually he found the journal. It was on your nightstand and very obviously labeled.

A dream journal?

You actually spent time in your waking life (something humans usually tended to believe was more important) reminiscing and writing about what you had experienced in his realm?

He didn’t open the journal out of respect but did ask you about it when you got home.

“I struggled remembering my dreams so I started writing them down.”

“You could have asked me and I could have made it easier for you.”

“That’s sweet but I started long before I met you.”

“Even so, you could have once we met.”

“My memory was better at that point, besides, I like doing it. Each moment spent in The Dreaming is special to me.”

And then you went back to putting your groceries away like you didn’t just cause his heart to swell.

Navigation

Request Rules/Character Sheet

[dotieeee]

The Dream That Got Away

Masterlist

Premise:

Morpheus creates you, a Dream that inspires passion in humanity for their daily tasks and helps them discover what they want in life. He names you Mera, derived from the Greek word ‘meraki,’ meaning ‘to do something with passion, with absolute devotion, with undivided attention.’ Perhaps it’s you, his own creation, who inspires him, for he realizes his true want for companionship, and it’s you he decides to fulfill that need. So, what if, after his capture for more than a century, he finds you in love with a mortal and hears of your plans to run away from the Dreaming, from him, forever?

Status: COMPLETE, will revisit for edits

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x You (no Y/N!)

Multi-chapter fic

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43126099

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Overall Warnings!! Take heed:

Morpheus is DARK – in canon, he changes for the better (or at least, tries to – but we don’t do canon lol, so he goes even more batshit crazy) cue obsession, manipulation, possessiveness, powerplay

18+ ONLY – explicit scenes will be present, some explicit language

DUB-CON and NON-CON scenes

Character death (sort of)

Creator vs Creation drama

And other dark stuff that may be added in the future

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Chapter 1: The Firsts of Many

Chapter 2: Some Words Are Better Left Unsaid

Chapter 3: True Intentions

Chapter 4: Scarlet Sage

Chapter 5: Your King

Chapter 6: The Sleep Doctor

Chapter 7: Nightmarish Visits

Chapter 8: The Dream Plan

Chapter 9: Courtships with Deadlines

Chapter 10: This Dream is Over

Chapter 11: Your Nightmare, Tenfold

Chapter 12: The Princess in the Tall Tower

Chapter 13: Under the Starry Night Sky

Chapter 14: A Festivity and A Fight

Chapter 15: Your King’s Wish

Chapter 16: Vanilla Ice Cream and Cheese

Chapter 17: Lost and Found, and Lost Again

Chapter 18: A Confession...of Love?

Chapter 19: The Dream That Started It All

Chapter 20: The Abyss Gazes Back

Chatpter 21/Epilogue: A Sibling’s Offer

[thebigsl33p]

Anyways Don't Be A Stranger

It's mid but we move on, please let me know of any mistakes!! Requests are open!

Morpheus had been a fool. He could admit that to himself with ease.

The King of Dreams had been free from Roderick Burgess' imprisonment for a few weeks now. And in that time he had chased down rogue nightmares, dealt with a vortex, his sibling(s), made amends with a centuries old friend and rebuilt his realm. And throughout all of that he had forgotten the only person he had thought about for just over two hundred years.

Y/N, his witch of a lover, a woman nearly as old as he was.

The pair had first met when Y/N called upon Dream of The Endless for a spell she was doing. At the time (the mediaeval era) Y/n worked for a small village as a pharmacist. of course she was gossiped about and shunned from the world but the many wards and circles around her house stopped people with bad intentions from passing her threshold. And that is why most of the village sent their children instead, small tiny humans with the purest of intentions and the loveliest of requests. They crossed her wards with ease and some even looked forward to their parents sending them to the Witch's cottage, whether it be for ointments or spells or charms.

This particular day a little boy and his older sister, seven and ten, had been sent to her. Y/N had been anticipating the knock all day and it finally came at 12:33 on a Sunday. She opened the door with a friendly smile and invited the children in whereupon they explained to her their predicament. The little boy had been experiencing intense night terrors and they had come to her for some form of remedy.

The Witch had told them what she would require: a feather from the boys pillow and a strand of his hair. As she was speaking she stood and reached for a vile of sand off her shelf and a jar which was filled with a bright white light.

"What is that?" the little girl reached up and pointed.

"This, my dear," Y/N placed it on her table, "Is a star, plucked from the sky on hallows eve."

The children made "Oo" noises and reached towards the jar and she let them and smiled before leaning down to the little girl, "Do you mind running back home and getting a feather from your brother's pillow?"

The girl nodded eagerly and then she was gone, hopping and skipping away back home, leaving Y/N with the boy who had plucked out a strand of his hair with ease and handed it to the witch, "Thank you!" she smiled.

She folded it into a piece of cloth and placed it into the pocket of her apron, before grabbing her cauldron and putting onto boil. She sat and talked to the boy about what he did, his friends, his interests before his sister returned with a handful of pillow feathers.

"Can I put them in?" She was bouncing with excitement as Y/N gently took the feathers from here and split them into two, handing the other half to her brother.

"Both of you can do it, go on. Be careful of the fire." She watched as the two children giggled and gently placed the feathers into the boiling water.

She smiled and then let them step back so she could continue. She took the sand and sprinkled it in an anti-clockwise direction, her wooden spoon stirring itself. She took the hair out of her pocket and placed it gently in the water. Her hand took a hold of the spoon and she stirred, murmuring as she went of Dreams and Nights and Stars and Gods and Endless.

The children stared in awe as she reached into her pocket and produced a pair of gloves that seemed to consume her hands in darkness before turning around and picking up the star in the jar. She unscrewed the lid and gently tipped it into her palm. She stared at the star for a minute, evaluating her sacrifice towards The Dreaming before lowering it into the water, hands fully submerged and when they came out the gloves seemed to have disappeared and there was a soft glow in the ever-spinning water.

It was all going well, the glow getting stronger and stronger as Y/N had seen many times.

But then she saw the light flicker and her face dropped and there was the sound of wind before the room was plunged into complete darkness. Instinctually she reached out and grabbed the children by their shoulders, pulling them into her arms and whispering instructions to them, "I need you to stay very very calm." She could feel them nodding in the darkness and she turned her back to where the cauldron used to be, feeling the children cling onto her skirt.

Then she saw them, the two white dots which seemed to hold the entire cosmos, much taller than her and unmistakably eyes.

Y/N spoke with power, strong and authoritative, "You stand within my home, with my rules and my wards, and I demand you show yourself or leave."

it was almost like the figure was laughing at her, her house shook with the echoes of chuckles, "Very well, Witch."

The candles flickered on, the sun returning to the outside world and her cauldron fire being re-lit. With no regard for the entity in her house she turned to the children and made sure they were okay, stroking their hair like a mother would and holding them close. Once she was reassured that they were going to be fine to turned back to the thing infiltrating her home.

It was a man. Tall with striking eyes, dark hair, wearing normal clothes, and she struggled for a moment before it hit her: the all consuming energy, the struggle to feel her own power.

"Dream of The Endless?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper, but he heard nonetheless.

"You asked for me, did you not?" He cocked his head in a form of confusion, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

"Yes but- not like this. It was merely a spell…the little boy behind me has had struggles with night terrors." Gently she turned behind her and held the boys hand, pulling him towards her.

Gently Morpheus crouched down and held out his hands towards the boy but he looked Y/N in the eyes as he spoke, "It is not a Witch's place to mess with dreams." She bowed her head in acknowledgement to his words but gently pushed the boy towards him and watched as The King of Dreams placed his hands upon the boy's head and stared at him before finally speaking, "There will be no more night terrors...your sister and you will sleep well tonight." he reassured him, letting an amused smile slip through the cracks.

The moment Morpheus released him he rushed back into the arms of The Witch who gently patted the two on the back, told them that they were going to be okay, everything was fixed and resolved, this man could be trusted, before sending them home. This will be something to tell their parents…

"This is not the first time you have meddled with my realm, witch." The King of The Dreaming stood up from his crouched position, "I may advise you not to attempt it again."

Y/N wasn't sure how to react. Show him respect? Treat him like an equal? Get angry at him? She simply took a deep breath and started to tidy up placing jars and utensils back in their rightful places before addressing the Dream Lord's words, "What's wrong with what I'm doing? I am simply trying to help."

"Your helping is causing disruptions in my realm. A great feat, I will admit, but not one I look kindly upon." There was a feeling that he was impressed with her ability and power, but not happy with it.

"I'm not sure whether I should take that as a compliment." She sighed and turned to face him, "I enjoy what I do, helping these people. And as much as I would love to continue my dreamwork should you forbid and warn me from doing it then I shall cease." She nodded with a sense of finality.

"Take my warning as you wish, witch." He said, his words hanging in the air and then Morpheus, King of Dreams, was gone.

"Don't be a stranger…"

--

The next time Y/N had a customer, requesting something to do with sleep and dreams, she turned them down in a heartbeat, not quite willing to find out what the Dream Lord's warning meant. However, that evening, sitting in her cottage on her bed, fire burning away and studying her grimoire she felt a presence in her room, one that wasn't entirely unwelcome but still put her on edge and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

She looked up from the book she was reading and copying out of and saw that same man who had visited her weeks ago, sitting at her table, hands neatly folded. His eyes pierced hers, the stars and the moons reflecting in them, "I saw you deny your customer."

"Is that not what you asked of me, not to mess with dreams and sleep?" The Witch gently shut her book and sat up properly to address the Endless.

"I have changed my mind." His lips pursed, "I wish to help you Witch."

She was slightly taken aback but accepted his change in attitude happily, "How? Why?"

"So many questions all at once." he stood, "I am going to teach you how to manipulate dreams and sleep, how to enter The Dreaming, how to simply flick a finger and have someone doze off, all because I have taken a liking to you and admire your dedication to your…craft. After much thought I have decided that if you are going to make a difference to people's dreams and nightmares then you might as well learn to do it properly, no?"

Gently he reached a hand out, "Come, I have much to teach you."

--

Morpheus stood outside his lover's house, hands in his pockets and Matthew on his shoulder, a thousand thoughts running through his head. "Who is this woman?" Matthew asked, ruffling his feathers.

"This woman, is the only person who I have ever taught the magick of dreams to. She was - is - my lover and I have been so stupid." The last part was a whisper, mostly to himself. Her cottage had changed since he had last seen it, more modernised. There were fields behind it now, and a garden at the front which grew a wide range of plants and flowers.

Morpheus swallowed his nerves and walked up the new path that ran through her garden to her front door. She had installed a knocker on her door, one that was shaped like a hand that he gently slipped his own hand into and lifted. Three knocks and he stepped back a bit, waiting for her to answer the door.

"Could you calm down? I can practically hear your heart." Matthew huffed, still shuffling about on Morpheus' shoulder. "Hush, Matthew." Dream murmured and he was about to say more when there was noise from behind the door and then it opened.

She looked exactly the same as he remembered her, that same hair and those bright eyes, slightly mismatched way of dressing and that smile, "How can I help-" her eyes widened as they landed on Morpheus and she stumbled back a bit, "Dream- Morpheus-"

"Y/N…" He was struggling to find words but he didn't have to say much before she had run into his arms, burying herself in his coat and holding him close. "Morpheus, oh goddess, oh my stars." She was weeping into his coat, before she pulled away to look at him, hands coming up to touch and hold his face, "Where were you? How long have you been back?"

The familiarity of her nature made him smile softly, "Always asked so many questions…I was captured by a magus and I've been back for a few weeks and I am so sorry I didn't come sooner, I just- The Corinthian and Desire and-"

"I think you said enough with Corinthian." She smiled lightly, "It's so good to see you - to have you back, Morpheus."

"I want you to come live in The Dreaming with me." The words came from nowhere, but she could feel the weight and meaning on them. He was taking a chance on her like he had taken a chance in the beginning.

"Okay…okay." she nodded, took a deep breath and then threw herself back into his arms, "I missed you so much."

"You're all I have thought about for two centuries. I can't tell you how sorry I am for being late." He pressed his forehead to hers and then he kissed her, almost like he hadn't felt human touch in just over two hundred years.

[acapelladitty]

prompt suggestion: dream 👏🏼 getting 👏🏼 edged 👏🏼

Hmm...you have massively appealed to my curious and vaguely horny nature! 😈👀💦

A few strands of inky black hair, the main shock of it in even greater disarray due to its repeated thrashing against the silken sheets, are plastered to his forehead and you brush them back from his eyes with a gentle finger.

"You're being so good for me," you praise him in a low tone to force his attention back to you, "and I know how hard it is. This is your realm. All you need to do is blink and our positions would be switched."

Kneading the soft skin of his thin thighs with a firm hand, the rough sensation makes the lump in his throat visibly stutter for a moment.

"And yet, you don't, my sweet Dream. Such a good boy, doing as he's been told."

Incomprehensible words, stilted by the soft fabric gag which is held between his teeth, fall from his lips but you stop them as you drop a finger to hush him.

A black shirt covers some of his torso but it is the only clothing between you both as he reclines against the headboard, your body balancing carefully against his thighs to allow you easy access to his body. His skin is stark white against the dark fabric with the only marks marring the perfect expanse of pale flesh being those recently left by your lips and nails.

Ghosting the pads of your fingers across the hardened length which is the focus of your current game, his thin chest seems to contract for a moment as his back arches at the gentle touch.

"One more." You promise in a honeyed tone which belies the cruel torment you are subjecting him to; the torment he enjoyed with every shuddering breath and desperate blink. "Just one more. Do it for me and I'll let you find release."

His nod is slow and deliberate, a fight for control which he was well familiar with, and you reward him with your thumb as it rubs soft circles on the sensitive head of his cock. The move earns you a muted groan as his hips buck into your hand slightly, demanding more.

Bringing your second hand up to his cheek, you trace the hollow there are you once again demand his attention. Dark eyes, the pinpoints of which are burning with a desperate lust, meet your own and the sheer need within them causes your teeth to bite at your lower lip as your core grinds against his thigh; the wetness there an undeniable tell of how aroused you are.

"Just one more," you repeat, holding his gaze with pure adoration, "and then we both get what we want."

Link to AO3

[xmalereader]

— HeartMoor — || ONE ||

Lord Morpheus X Dark Fey! Male Reader

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|| Masterlist ||

-

Authors Note: I wrote this at 3AM and I was half asleep, so if anything sounds wrong or off please let me know. But anyways, I went back to the Dark Fey idea again after rewatching malificent and couldn’t help but write one between Dream and reader. The second part will be out shortly so prepare for more angst! I also made some changes towards the Dark Fey lore and I apologize if it isn’t good.

Summary: Reader is a Dark Fey who has been captured and trapped by Rodrick Burgess before Dreams arrival. The two are locked away and only have each other until readers torture changes Dreams perspective and feelings towards the Dark Fey.

Warnings: Angst, Dream of the endless, torture, Dark Theme, mentions of death, death threats, language, Rodrick burgess can suck ass, Dark Fey lore, semi AU, Possessive dream, slight kissing , mentions of ravens, glimpse of death, slight fluff, courting, mentions of hell.

Word count: 3.8k

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—

Dream of the Endless had been captured by Rodrick Burgess. A selfish man who would do anything to get what he wants, even if that means keeping the king of dreams and nightmares locked up in his basement for years in order to get what he wanted back. When Dream was summoned he didn’t think it would be in the hands of humans, such weak and fragile beings were able to capture him.

Locking him up in a cage made of glass without his tools, humiliated and mocked in his own presences. When he first woke up inside the cage his eyes have landed in front of Roderick who rambled on about his dead son who he wished to have back.

“I seemed to have captured the wrong God but perhaps your tools can bring me something good into life if you are unwilling to help bring my son back.” Rodrick had circled him, watching him closely as Dream ignored the old man. “Very well,” Rodrick comes to a stop at the front, his eyes narrowing. “Maybe my Fey could help instead.”

Dreams eyes shift towards the old man at the mention of a ‘fey’ curious to know what he was talking about as he watched Burgess walk towards a corner of the basement where a black curtain covered a large portion of it. “Meet your companion.” Burgess voice is full of venom as he pulls the curtains down, revealing a human like creature with large black wings and horns on his head. The man stood in a cage of his own, glaring at the old man as his wings ruffled and lied by his side, backing away from the iron walls.

“This is my Fey.” Rodrick says proudly and with an evil grin on his face as the Fey continued to glare harshly, not taking his eyes off of the old man.

Dreams gaze lands on the Fey. He’s never seen such creature before, never in his or his siblings realm. The name of such creature was something he was not familiar with but yet, it got his attention but showed no sign of interest to Burgess as the older man focused on the caged up Fey. “Perhaps you and him could speak to each other. That’s if he wants too.” Burgess gives the two one last look before heading upstairs with his son next to his side.

The Fey following their every move until the gates are locked behind them and disappearing up the stairs. His tense shoulders finally relax at being free from the man’s presences, being locked up for nearly twenty years was something he did not enjoy, especially when the man demanded things from him that even he cannot grant. The Fey glanced over his shoulder to see the other staring back at him.

He didn’t know who the other being was nor did he want to know. Burgess was a trickster and will do anything to get what he wanted whether from the Fey or from Dream. The two stare at each other for what felt like hours before the Fey is the first to break the tension, facing his back to the Dream lord, his wings in display as he sits on the ground and curled up into himself, using his large dark wings as a blanket as he covered himself up.

Dream on the other hand couldn’t keep his eyes off the Fey, watching him closely as he shifts in place trying to find a comfortable position. Dream didn’t know what Rodrick was implying, if he thinks such thing was going to make him talk or convince him say anything then he wasn’t falling for any of his tricks. He’s had enough of it and being locked up was one of them.

For the first few days, Burgess was able to create a schedule for both Dream and the Fey. There would be guards down in the basement all night watching over the two as they switched off every once an awhile, changing with another pair to take over the watching. It wasn’t long before Dream started taking notice of the treatment the Fey was receiving. The young boy, Alex, would come downstairs with food in hand. He’d approach the Feys cage, cautiously stepping forward and sliding the plate between the iron bars.

“Father wants to make sure that you eat.” The young child whispers, sitting down on his knees as he watched the Fey uncurl himself from his wings, stretching them out as he sighs out a groan. His gaze falls onto the food, reaching out slowly to pluck the berries as he softly speaks to the child.

“Thank you, Alex.”

That’s the first time Dream has ever heard the Fey speak, his voice soft and warm as he spoke fondly to the child, not knowing why he was treating such humans with kindness when he too, is locked up from the world.

The King of dreams was sitting in his cage, glancing at the child and Fey as the two spoke quietly amongst each other.

“Father means well, he doesn’t wish to hurt you. Maybe if you could—“

“I’ve already told him that I can’t.” The Fey frowns out. “It’s not that I won’t but that I unable to do as he wishes.” He reminds to startled boy as he finished the berries and shoved the plate back to him, giving him a soft glare in return. “You’re merely a child, Alex. Once you get older you’ll understand.” He turns to face his back, lying on the ground again as he shuts out the world around him.

Alex remains quiet as he collects the empty platter, coming to a stand and giving the Fey another look before following the guards out. They were switching again but lately the new guards have been taking longer to arrive than usual which gave Dream the chance to speak after days.

“You care for the child.”

The Fey is startled by the dark voice as he turns around to stare at the other imprisoned being. Every since he’s arrival he’s tried to ignore him and not give him any attention but, it seems like the Endless himself was the one to start the conversation as he sat in his own cage.

“He’s only a child, humans are all the same. Once he grows he’ll continue to take his fathers side.” The Fey responds back, the two alone in the basement with no one to watch over them.

“And yet, you show him kindness.”

Dream still didn’t understand as to why the Fey would be kind to a child who’s father had then locked up and away in his own home. “I know.” The winged creature shifts in spot, tucking his own wings behind his back as he sits up. “Out of curiosity, if you wish to answer, who are you?”

Dream raises a brow, suddenly answering his question without a second thought. “Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams and Nightmares.” He expects the Fey to know who he is but the creature could shake his head, having no clue to who he was speaking with. “I’m sorry, your name doesn’t sound familiar nor have I ever heard of it.” His response is soft, laced with pity. “To make it even I’m Y/n, Dark Fey and protector of Nature and children.”

That explained now, why, he was so kind to the child. It was his duty to protect the young ones and couldn’t help but continue on with his duties. “If you are protector of Nature and children, then why does burgess keep you locked away?”

Y/n sighs to himself. “There’s a legend amongst my people, for centuries their a great chosen one who bares the true form of a Dark Fey and whoever bares witness of that form can get any wish granted. Weather it be life or death, immortality or greed. Anything can be granted.” He explains, letting Dream know why burgess has him locked away. For twenty years the old man had been trying to force the Fey to show his true form but he did not budge nor did he say anything. Showing their true form was only something that happened every few centuries and rarely any Fey was chosen to bare such gift.

“I apologize, but I don’t know much about your kind.” Dream was honest, having no history with Dark Feys.

“Understandable.” Y/n sighs to himself. “You wouldn’t know because your staring at the last one who’s been locked away for twenty years.” He gives Dream a sad smile before lying back down, growing tired and restless as he covers himself again and goes back to being silent after the new guards finally arrive.

Every time the guards come in late they use their alone time to continue talking amongst themselves, learning about one another and growing close as the years go by. They continued to ignore Burgess begging for his son, facing their backs to the main each time that he wanted something from them but nothing ever worked.

It was until one night when a loud ruckus was heard upstairs caught the attention of both Dream and Y/n. The Fey coming to a stand as he moves near the bars, listening closely at the sound of wings flapping. “Rovin.” He whispers to himself as two ravens land on the gate, each looking at their own masters as they fly to them.

Y/n is delighted to see his own companion, reaching his hand out through the bars as he winced from the burn, he ignored the pain and slowly smiles at his raven who lands on his hand, ruffling their feathers as they looked around the cage, trying to find a way to break him free.

“Rovin.” He says again as the Raven flies out of his hand and lands on the cement, pecking on the lock as it tries to break it as best as they could. Before the Raven could try again a loud gunshot is heard, causing Y/n to gasp in shock as he looks up to see Dreams raven dead on the floor. It didn’t take long for one of burgess men to cast a net over his own raven as it caws in displeasure, flapping its wings widely as it tries to nip on their fingers.

“For crying out loud, kill the damn bird!”

Y/n’s eyes widen. “No! Leave her alone!” He reaches out to Rovin, his fingers grazing over their feathers before they are kicked away from his grasp. The Fey chokes out a sob as his raven gets injured, flapping one wing only as it tries to escape.

“Please, don’t—!” He felt useless as he watched them torture his raven. “That’s enough!” He hissed out in anger but no one listened until it was too late, the room grows silent as the sounds of his raven quiet down. He hears a soft thud as Burgess men step away in shock.

The Feys raven was no longer a raven but a human girl, who lied lifelessly on the ground. She wasn’t moving or breathing. “Rovin.” He croaks out, staring at her lifeless body with wide eyes as he slumps down onto the floor. He was in mourning and angry at the man’s actions. Fury lit inside of him as he looks up with anger in his eyes. “You—“ he growls out, coming to a stand as he glared.

“It speaks.” Rodrick is impressed by the Fey finally talking after years.

“You killed her, you’ve taken her away from me and for what?! For a dead son who you wish to get back? Do you really think Randell would want to reunite with someone like you who cages us away and takes away our freedom? All of this for a mere wish!” He shouts, startling the men and Alex who stands behind his father, a dead raven in hand.

Dream was also upset and angry but watching Y/n’s anger towards Rodrick made him feel equal towards his own feelings of losing a good friend.

“When I get out of this cage, Burgess. I will hunt you and your men down and enjoy killing them. But I’ll save you for last because I am going to enjoy ripping your throat out and I can’t wait for that day to come.” His voice is full of venom and hatred, leaving Rodrick in shock before Y/n’s eyes shift to Alex who flinched under his stare. “You disappoint me.” That was enough to break Alex’s heart, the small bond they had together when he was a child was no more.

Rodrick commands his men to get rid of the girl who lied lifelessly as they dragged her away. The Fey averts his gaze from the girl and faced his back, tucking himself away as he mourns for the lose of a good friend. “Believe me, I won’t allow that.” Burgess tells the Fey, glancing at Dream before leaving them alone again.

The room is silent and alone. Dream glanced over to Y/n, he wished to speak with him to ask him about their lost friends but, he knew that it wasn’t a good time. The two have lost good companions but Y/n’s companion seemed special, having the ability to turn human again only to see their master one last time in such a torturous state. Dream bad also witness his fellow Jessamy get gunned down in front of his eyes. He too, was upset and furious by the loss.

The two stopped talking after a few days, their time alone was dragged out in silence. Y/n had neglected his food every time Alex came down and had ignored both Rodrick and Alex if none of the two were able to convince Dream to help with his dead son or perhaps granting them immortally or riches. He stopped speaking to Dream, not because he hated him but because he was too broken to even talk anymore. He’s lost everything, his home, his family, and Rovin. He had no one else but himself and who know of the Dream lord himself even saw him as a friend.

The silence he gave to Rodrick irritated the man to the point where he disappeared for days. Y/n thinking that the old man had finally died or perhaps forgotten them downstairs. It wasn’t until the fifth day of the week when he finally comes downstairs, three to four men behind him as he talks out loud. “If he’s not willing to speak then whatever he has will become a fortune.” He unlocks the doors and steps inside to give Dream a small glance before focusing his attention to Y/n, nodding towards his cage and guiding the group of men with him.

“He can’t stand iron, so the job will be easy to finish.”

Y/n lifts his wings, looking up from the ground to see Rodrick towering over him with a grin on his face. “Hello, Fey.” He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a key. Y/n tilts his head in confusion, was he perhaps finally being let go? No, burgess wasn’t a kind man.

“Prepare yourselves.” Rodrick lets the other men know as Y/n glares, waiting for burgess to unlock the cage and once the lock clicks open he slams the door open, jolting out as he attacks the older man. His claws ready to sink into his skin until a harsh burning sensation is wrapped around his neck. He cries out in pain as he’s dragged off burgess, an iron collar around his neck as it burns him, bruising his neck as he reaches up to try and pry it off.

He’s shoved down by the men before he can even touch the collar, his wrists bound as they held him down. He growls and thrashed, whimpering as iron cuffs were placed around his wrists, causing him to flinch. He didn’t know what was going on, the pain was too much that he doesn’t notice Burgess men holding his wings down as Rodrick began to speak.

“If you do not wish to grant my wish then I don’t think I’ll be needing you anymore.” He stares down at Y/n who struggled to break free. “A man from Camden paid me very well to get him angel wings to display in his home.”

Y/n’s eyes widen.

“But he doesn’t need to know that you are not an angel but a worthless Fey.” He snaps his fingers, nodding down at the Fey who shakes his head. “No…no, please don’t—!” His pleads turn into screams as they cut his wings with iron chains. His back arched as he tries to flee but the burning sensation weakens him as they continued to cut them off.

Dream can only watch in horror as the Fey suffers through the torture. He looks away but it doesn’t make things better as he hears his screams of pain and anguish. They die down after a few minutes, causing the King of Dreams to look back up and see the young Fey lying limp on the floor. His back missing his large black wings that were now taken away from him.

Y/n was too weak to fight back or even think about escaping, he is unchained and dragged back inside the cage as they tossed him inside. He still lies limp on his side, his back facing Dream and giving the Endless a good view of his missing wings. No one paid mind to the creatures torture as they tucked away their trophy and left the basement, the guards following after a Burgess and leaving the two alone.

Dream leans forward in his own cage, hands pressed against the glass as he tries to get a closer look at the Fey. He sees no movement or signs of life, he began to think that the only good friend he had down here was officially dead after the torture until he sees him flinch. Dream moves closer as he speaks his name. “Y/n.”

The Fey slowly moves, placing a hand on the ground to help lift himself up. His back is still burning and his neck aces, his wrists hold red burn marks as he slowly reached behind to touch his backside, wincing at the burning sensation and making him curl back up. He doesn’t respond to Dream nor does he look at him, afraid and hurt.

Dream frowns, not because he was offend by his none response but because he was angry at Rodrick Burgess for what he did, for causing the pain of an innocent Fey who only wished to be free. Dream vowed to get them out that he would be the one to free them both and get them someplace safe, back to the Dreaming.

—

When Y/n first opens his eyes after sleeping for days he didn’t expect himself to feel something so soft and warm underneath him. He's confused, eyes adjusting to his surroundings as he sits up slowly. He wasn’t in the basement anymore he was instead in a large room lying on a bed with dark covers that kept him warm. He didn’t know where he was or how he ended up here, was he perhaps dreaming or had he finally died in the hands of his captor?

He pushed the covers off him, gently coming to a stand as he winced a little. His back still sting after some time of resting off the pain, he can feel the dark burns makes on his backside that he grabs the velvet blanket and wraps it around himself, ashamed of being seen. A pair of double doors gets his attention as he pushed them open, stepping out into a hallway. He could hear soft voices down the corridors causing him to follow, walking cautiously as the voices grew louder.

“Sir, I was able to go through the census and I can assure you that we are still missing a few dreams and, of course, a specific nightmare.”

“Corinthian always causing me trouble.”

The familiar voice caused him to freeze in place, hiding behind a pillar as he listens again, wanting to make sure that he wasn’t imagining Dreams voice that he’s listened too various times during their time in the basement.

He hopes it’s all a dream or maybe death had come for him and he’s stuck in his own head.

“You’re awake.”

Y/n is startled by his Dreams voice again, deep and laced with comfort. He steps out of hiding and looks up to see Dream standing down the stairs, book in hand while his librarian stood opposite of him as she eyes him up and down. “I see why you asked for them.” She mumbled, confusing Y/n even more.

“Lucienne, leave us.”

Lucienne sighs, giving him a small bow. “Yes, sir.” She holds her book in hand and leaves the room as the two remained alone together in his chambers.

“Am I dead?” Y/n is quick to blurt out, his hand tightening around the blanket as he stares up at Dream who approached him slowly with a shake of his head. “Your are very much alive.” Dream explains. “This is the Dreaming, my realm and Palace of dreams and nightmares.”

“So, I’m dreaming?”

“Not exactly,” Dream reaches out, his fingers brushing against Y/n’s forehead as he pushed a strand of hair back. His touches causes him to flinch, unknown to him after so many years of being locked away and tortured.

Dream retracts his hand, falling back to his side as he sighs. “After Burgess took your wings you fell into a deep sleep and never woke back up. After years of being locked up I was able to escape and freed you, I took you here so that you could rest in peace and give yourself time to heal. Rodrick burgess is dead and will no longer bring harm to you.”

Y/n didn’t know if he should believe Dream on the idea of him being asleep for years but the torture he faced was enough to shut down his body from doing anything. “My wing—?”

“Still searching.” Dream whispers, his breath against his face as they stand closer than ever. Their cages have kept them separated for centuries and they were finally able to reach each other. Their foreheads pressed against each other as they take each other in. “Feys can heal their wings when reunited back to them.” He hears Dream mutter out. “I’ll help you find them and you’ll be able to fly freely, either in the Waking or in the Dreaming. You are no prisoner here nor will I stop you from leaving if you wish too leave.”

Y/n shakes his head, leaning into Dreams touch. “I can’t think of any other place. I have no home or family—no one.”

Dreams fingers graze against the Feys chin, using his thumb and index finger to lift his head by the chin. “You have me.” He plants a soft kiss against his forehead as he whispers. “I won’t abandon you and I will make you whole again.”

[darklinsblog]

Little Prince | Sandman Imagine

Summary: You ask Morpheus to read to you your favorite story growing up, The Little Prince

Pairing: Morpheus x Human! Reader

Requested: Yes

Author’s note: Special mention to @saraicus who made spoil a tad bit of this imagine hehe

Ever since you could recall, you had loved the book of the Little Prince, from a child to now as an adult it was just some sort of safe space, something you could always revisit whenever.

Whether you were feeling sad or you simply wanted to reminisce on your memories linked to this very specific book, you found yourself reading it over and over again.

Each time you read it, you found something new, maybe another lesson to be learned or just something in the book itself you hadn’t notice before.

As usual you entered the library and grabbed a set of books and Lucienne, the librarian and dear friend of yours was already stretching your comfort story into your direction.

You smiled holding back a laugh

“Am I really that predictable?”

“I firmly believe that every single one of us needs a book to comfort us” she spoke sweetly.

“Even if it’s a children’s book?”

“A child will always possess an infinite imagination, maybe as a adults we see more beauty to the world through the eyes of a child”

Maybe she was write, perhaps it was a good thing, maybe you were keeping your inner child close while still learning about diverse topics.

Truth be told, you spend most of your time at the library, it was quiet, peaceful and it could be just you and whatever story you would immerse yourself in.

As you read, you were softly interrupted by a kiss at the top of your head, you looked up to see Morpheus softly smiling down at you.

“Enjoying your read?” He asked softly, making you smile and nod.

“Very much so” you said, you were writing a mythology book, but by the corner of his eye he noticed the very familiar book to you.

He stretched out to grab it, feeling the sense of the book cover, the pages, he had seen this book countless times over the years but now, it held a special place in his heart.

Morpheus could not get even a simple glance at the book without his eyes glistening or a soft smile forming on his lips.

Because now this book, inherently reminded him of you, the one object of all his affection, longing and hope.

“What’s on your mind, my king?” You questioned him with a hint of curiosity

“Mind if I read this to you, later tonight?” He asked quite cautiously, not being sure of how you would react, but as he saw your eyes glistening, air seemed to find its way back to his lungs.

“That would be lovely”

You were quite excited to have Morpheus read for you, because he knew how much this reading meant for you.

Something you loved was that Morpheus never fault a single promise and today was no different because at night time, right after finishing his duties he was ready to read for you.

He sat on the bed, signaling you to come closer, you carefully laid on his chest and he grabbed the book of the Little Prince and started reading out loud for you.

His voice was so relaxing and listening to the story on his voice made you love it more and be more attentive.

“It is only with the heart that one can see clearly…” he went on narrating and this time you could help yourself to finish the sentence you knew so well.

“…What is essential is invisible to the eye”

This time you looked at your lover, who smiled at you and kissed your cheek, he closed the book and embraced you fully, keeping you warm and safe.

Your whole body felt loose under him and right now you wished this moment would last forever, that you could stay like this, almost frozen in time.

Like nothing truly mattered.

The King of Dreams could feel you slowly falling asleep in his arms and it was reassuring for him to know you were comfortable enough to let yourself drift into your sleep.

“Rest, my lady. We have countless days ahead of us” he murmured in your ear and was the last thing you heard as you finally fell asleep.

Taglist: @emiemiemiii @ladyfairenvale @hungrhay @aurorarevenclaw1927 @adishax @meganmayhem89 @mrs-captainsteverogers @hb8301 @bambooing-shenanigans @queenshelby @characterxreaderimagine @emarich7 @carolcrysis @coolsnowker @jesllianaquilesrolon @supermegapauselouca @vvsdreaming

[eviesaurusrex]

“ɪ ᴛᴏʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ.” | ʟᴏʀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴘʜᴇᴜꜱ

Lord Morpheus x Deity!Reader (Goddess of Nature and Music)

summary: After being killed by Roderick Burgess during her attempts to free her husband, YN returns to Morpheus shortly after he himself reincarnated (kind of pt. 2 to »this one«)

word count: 5k oooops…?

warnings: mentions of death, mentions of the Afterlife, reincarnation, angst, but super fluff, like, seriously, this is a fluffy cloud of cotton candy, Death, Lucienne, Mervyn, and Matthew as trusty wing people

author’s note: This idea is presented to you by a comment written by @writing-fanics under my first ever Morpheus work: “we meet him again but when he’s reincarnated as Daniel Hall 👉👈 that’s my headcannon to make me happy after reading this the third time”. I could not not write this one out after I succeeded in breaking my own heart with the first fanfic for my baby 🥺 We imagine that Morpheus looks the same and has kept every memory after his reincarnation, but they have to be triggered, thank you, bye

Disclaimer: I have never read the comics (yet), and I’m still watching season one, so this is just my take on it. Please, don’t come for my head, would be much appreciated 👉🏻👈🏻 But I deliberately changed the happenings of episode 1 in order to let my baby have his vengeance. So, that’s on purpose!

;

“Okay, scenario time,” Matthew’s voice reverberated through the soothingly lit library in the Dreaming and called Lucienne and Mervyn to attention. The librarian peeked expectantly over her round glasses while Merv turned away from the stack of books to eye the flying raven cautiously. Recently, the bird had acted weirdly every time he had returned from the Waking World, and every time it had gotten more and more concerning. “What is it this time, Matthew? The beheaded ghost of Anne Boleyn?” Lucienne exchanged glances with the pumpkin head, suppressing a barely noticeable grin before cocking both eyebrows at the black bird.

Matthew groaned—he wished he hadn’t spoken a word about that incident—but flapped his wings to detangle the ends of his feathers. He still wasn’t used to those either. “Very funny,” he seethed and tickled a rumbling chuckle out of the pumpkin’s mouth. Sometimes he wished he would’ve landed in hell instead of the presence of these two buttheads who never faltered to tease him. “Anyway,” the raven continued with a warning glare out of his black eyes, “Back to my totally hypothetical scenario. Is rebirth a thing? I’m still new to this stuff. Hadn’t had the time to read through every book.” To be quite honest, Matthew hadn’t touched a single book in here, not even those which Lucienne had put on a stack on one of the tables, just for him. He hadn’t been a big reader back in his days; he should be damned if he would start with it now.

Lost in his thoughts, Matthew didn’t realize the awful silence settling over the duo in front of him. Confused, he looked from one to the other. “What have I said or done now?!” Lucienne was the first to speak up. “Why are you asking, Matthew?” Her voice was laced with earnestness, and the raven stepped from one talon to the other. “No reason?” He didn’t sound convincing, even he heard that. “Matthew,” the librarian spoke in one of her warning tones, and the bird knew he couldn’t joke around anymore. “Fine! There is this teeny-tiny portrait Morpheus is carrying around with him. Like, all the damn time. And over which he is so protective, I wasn’t allowed to take a look or even ask him who that is. But…” Again, he stepped from one toe to the other before jumping from the stack of books he had landed on. “But?” Now even Mervyn urged him with the same unnerving tone Lucienne owned. “But a few weeks ago, he forgot to put it back in his pocket, and it lay open on one of the steps. So, yeah, I took a glance. Don’t give me that look, you two would have done the same!” Lucienne stood from her chair and moved closer to him. “Stop weaseling around the point, Matthew!”

The librarian knew whose features were depicted in the locket the lord carried around ever since Lucienne had handed it over to him. The thought alone of Lord Morpheus’ still lingering pain—even though he couldn’t put it to the proper memories connected to this feeling—made her heart ache as well—especially because she had known her as closely as one could know the former Queen of the Dreaming. They had considered each other dear friends, sharing the same passion for the written word and wisdom.

“Good lord, let me take a breather! Why are you so eager all of a sudden? Sheesh.” Her patience with this creature was almost depleted, and she would have loved to just shake a bit of sense into him. Instead, the librarian was content with using threatening words. “If you are not willing to tell me right in this instance what this nonsense is about, I will shake some sense into your feathery body!” Matthew stared up at her and took a small step back, putting some distance between them, but maneuvered him closer to Mervyn, who definitely wouldn’t help him if Lucienne decided to strangle the life out of him. “Okay, Okay! I’m sure I saw her wandering around in the Waking World! Happy?”

The bomb blew up and silence once more settled over the library. Lucienne continued to stare down at the raven, face unmoving and lacking any expression, while Mervyn plopped down onto one of the chairs standing next to the long wooden table. Matthew glanced from one to the other. “Why? Who is she? Someone important? Like his queen?” A chuckle escaped him at the thought of Morpheus being married and having a loving wife somewhere hidden in this palace. But at the sight of hurt and grief on the pumpkin’s face, even the cheeky raven grew quiet.

“She was his queen, yes,” Mervyn mumbled, leaning back in the chair. “She is his queen,” Lucienne corrected him, not having accepted the cruel fate her friend had endured. Merv sighed long and deep. “Her name was YN, and she was the only being he had ever wanted.” Matthew perked up. “YN as in YN, the Goddess of Nature and Music and all that?” Both nodded simultaneously. “She was killed by the same man who had captured our lord. And you are sure you saw her? Not some mortal only resembling her?” The raven nodded without a second thought after digesting the new information and the even more depressing backstory of his boss. “I’m pretty sure. She looked… lost. And I’m sure she saw me. Not only the raven but me.” And that had unsettled him so much that he had fled every time she had found him again. Yet, Matthew always returned to keep an eye on her, unable to stay away from her because somewhere deep down, he knew she was somehow different.

Lucienne exchanged glances with Mervyn. “Is it possible then?” The pumpkin head asked the librarian without hesitation, and she nodded equally as fast. “Reincarnation? Yes. Resurrection? Possibly? Death is the expert on the latter.”

And as if she had only waited for the perfect moment, Death of the Endless appeared in the middle of the library, displeasure evident on her face.

“Who of you found it screamingly funny to mingle with a soul?”

Now it was Matthew and Mervyn who exchanged glances before turning their eyes to Lucienne. “Seems likely possible,” the raven announced before the trio moved to look to the Endless, still waiting for an answer, arms crossed in front of her chest.

;

“Why the sudden need to visit the Waking World?” Morpheus’ soft voice asked Death, an edge of curiosity to it nonetheless, blue eyes resting on the passing people who didn’t heed the Endless’ existence nor presence entirely. His sister hummed shortly, but no word left her mouth—for now. Minutes passed by just like humans passed by. They stood on this spot on the street silently, right opposite a flourishing park, facing the lush green grass, the flower bushes, the high, looming, almost ancient trees.

“Death,” he warned lowly, not feeling pleased by this game she seemed to play with him. Impatience spread in his body, letting him experience the usual unresting feeling crushing into his muscles and bones, urging him to do anything. He had learned to despise this feeling. “The locket you carry.” Her sudden turn to face him surprised even him, and a black brow arched over his eye. “What about it?” He felt rather protective over the little piece Lucienne had handed him over, and he remembered the memory rising at the gesture vividly. The agony connected to it was something he had never experienced before. But instead of fading over time, it had manifested as a brick in his soul and heart; unwavering and unstoppable as soon as it once had taken hold of him.

Death observed him closely, witnessing the change in his eyes and the emotions dancing over his face. She was sure the memories were somewhere buried in his soul, and they only had to trigger them. It surprised her he didn’t unlock any of them at the first sight of her face after Lucienne had given him the small portrait right after he was reincarnated.

“You do know who she is, do you, brother?” Morpheus furrowed his forehead in concentration, trying to understand the meaning behind this—but a conclusion was nowhere to be seen. Death seemingly caught up to his train of thought because she slowly pointed in the direction of the blooming park opposite of them without letting him out of her sight. “I hope this will answer everything,” she mumbled, watching Morpheus as he slowly turned his head to watch the greenery and people passing. It was nothing out of the ordinary to see.

Not until she stepped out of the shadow of a willow tree into the beaming sunlight.

She strolled through the grass seemingly without a care in the world, face held upwards in the direction of the warming sun, eyes closed. He somehow knew that they were of an ever-changing color, always capturing him, even after eons of being his companion as soon as he had stepped into a room she had occupied, following him with an expression he only could describe as never-ending and undying love.

Morpheus could feel how his heart ached bitterly and agonizingly at the sight of her.

He watched her fingertips dance over flowers in full bloom, tickling an even brighter color out of their petals which stretched desperately in the direction of her life-gifting touch, craving her attention, constantly repositioning to her, as if she was the compass they had searched for decades without success. As if she was the sun to the sunflower in them. But not only the flowers reacted to her; even the grass seemed more green and lush in its color.

Morpheus wasn’t able to take his eyes off her—neither physically nor mentally. Not with the deeply felt emotions crashing against the high walls around his mind like a strong and wild tide, resembling her being. She might look like the damsel in distress, but all of a sudden, the Lord of Dreams knew with shocking clarity that she was anything but the damsel in desperate need of an assisting hand. And not just that.

He knew her.

A change within him followed this realization.

He felt the moment in which every single memory returned to his soul unscathed. Morpheus could flick through them like the pages of a book, and every picture was as clear as the sky of the Waking World above his head. He could remember their wedding vividly—remembered her smile as radiant as the stars above them while they promised to protect, cherish, and love one another.

Forever.

Whatever might lay ahead of them on their path through the centuries and eons.

Both brows softly rose over the pair of eyes, always lacking something in their depths which they held once without any doubt. The spark was there again, though—Death could see it clearly, could even feel it. The stars inside the blue seas attempted to return, but the hesitation of the Endless still too powerful to let them have their way.

Morpheus watched the woman, the goddess, his wife, with growing desperation from afar, feeling agitated. His only desire was to cross the street, to put the humans in his line of sight and Death behind him, wanted to pull her into his arms after he had stopped right in front of her. He wanted to see her face, to hear her voice, to feel her soft touch which had always reminded him of water gliding over stone, of a breeze caressing through the tall-growing grass and wheat in the Dreaming, of raindrops stealing daringly kisses and touches of petals and leaves.

He wanted everything from her she once had given him without so much as a fleeting thought.

Unbeknownst to himself, the King of the Dreaming and Lord of Dreams had taken a step closer to his very own dream, not paying any attention to his sister in his back or the raven that had landed on a branch next to the goddess. His black eye observed his boss looking dumbfounded over at the woman who resembled the most beautiful blooming flower ever seen by mortals and otherworldly beings.

And though she was above the Waking World, once a ruler of the Dreaming itself, she slowly sank down in front of a little girl, a tender expression settling on her face. The girl held a dying flower in her open palms; the stem snapped off the remaining plant and looked equally as crushed as the petals. Matthew smiled—as good as possible as a bird—at the picture of her softly raising her hand and returning the flower to its once beautiful existence, making the girl giggle and smile widely. YN smiled back—Morpheus felt as if his heart missed several beats at once—before resting a finger against her lips, and the girl nodded in understanding before rushing over to her mother, showing her newest possession proudly.

She raised back to her feet, and without a glance over her shoulder, she spoke up. “You can come out, raven, whose name I still do not know.” Matthew felt exposed but followed her words and landed softly on her shoulder. “Goddess,” he mumbled, and YN chuckled gently. “Ah, I see. And there I was, wondering why you did not leave just yet. Someone told you, I suppose?” He was able to take a glimpse of her eyes, and the raven would have to lie if he told the world they weren’t as mesmerizing as Lucienne had described them to him. Nodding, the raven made himself a bit more comfortable on her shoulder—if he had to choose, he would take her shoulder over his boss’s every time. He hoped no one would ever find out about that. A heavy sigh left her parted lips. “Then you surely must know that I am of no use anymore.”

Ever since she had awoken in the Waking World, YN had tried to find a way back into the Dreaming, back home. Before her—obviously not definitively—death, she had had the powers to come and go as she had pleased, but now, all there was left was silence and coldness. She couldn’t even feel the Dreaming anymore, which only let appear one conclusion in the front of her mind, and she didn’t dare to think about it further. In the first hours and days of her awakening, she had cried enough tears to form an entirely new river—unpurposely, of course.

Matthew cocked his head and tried to stare into her eyes. “No use?! What are you talking about? I call bullshit.” YN now herself cocked her head, mirroring the raven on her shoulder what he didn’t like, but was humored nonetheless. “So, you are a funny one. That did not happen in a very long time. Usually, ravens tend to be so earnest.” The raven had to chuckle at that. “I’m unique. But stop honey-ing me, missy! Care to enlighten me why you think you are useless?”

Now, every lightness was gone from her face, eyes, and body language. He could feel her muscles tense under his talons. “I cannot return. I cannot return to the Dreaming, not even after offering my powers. I cannot feel it.” I cannot feel my home, she thought to herself before continuing. “And if I cannot feel the Dreaming, the only possible reason is…” YN couldn’t speak it out loud but had to, so she took a breath. “The only reason is that he is dead. And without him, I cannot return home.” I do not wish to return home. Because what was a never-ending existence without the one she loved more than every flower, leaf, and music tune?

Matthew raised his head slowly, looking from the profile of her breathtakingly face over to his boss, still standing there like a damn tree growing roots. He saw how Death softly nudged him in their direction, and if he had a saying in this, he would’ve shoved him like there would be no tomorrow. Instead, he himself gently nudged her jaw to make YN turn her head. “But what if he is still here?” Matthew asked at the exact moment her eyes had found the man of her dreams.

And suddenly, everything stopped. There was no movement, no breathing life, no growing life. Only stasis. Except for them. In a very long time, YN hadn’t felt this much alive, not even in the wake of her awakening a handful of months back.

Morpheus could see the movement of her lips, letting no sound escape them—the sight of it brought him back to the memory of her last breath he had been damned to only observe instead of trying to save her. But other than a century before, she didn’t lose the spark of life in her eyes, didn’t go limp, didn’t show any signs of injuries or blood consuming the fabric of her clothes before it dripped onto the grass beneath her feet.

No, she was the epitome of life, and her light fueled him with something he hadn’t felt in a very long time: Hope. Happiness. Love. And he should be damned if he didn’t get to her only because he feared that this was his very own nightmare which he had conjured himself to torture his already tortured soul. He couldn’t lose her a second time. He wouldn’t lose her a second time.

With slow steps, even though he ached to stride over to her as fast as possible, he put the grey world behind him and stepped into the green paradise he yearned to have back in his life, in the Dreaming. His realm wasn’t itself, not without its queen. The soothing calm wrapped itself around him and his mind, caressing him softly with every step he took. It resembled her touch, but he knew that her skin against his was something even more glorious and ethereal. Something divine beyond comprehension.

None of them broke the contact of their gazes; they revolved around one another like planets in the grand universe, interdependent, as if one was the source of gravity of the other. Morpheus wasn’t sure if he should reach for her, if he should let his fingertips glide up her bare arm. But she took the burden of said decision upon herself as YN reached out for him, desperation and fear written all over her beautiful face, crystal tears burning in her eyes which just changed their color from the light blue of a summer sky to the evergreen of a dark forest. He felt as if his heart stopped beating entirely the moment the tips of her fingers were able to reach the back of his hand.

Both sucked a deep breath into their lungs, and while YN’s lips softly parted in utter surprise, Morpheus’ steps faltered. Inches still separated the couple, but he slowly turned his hand under her fingertips, moving it to let his palm face upwards, to feel her touch there because he suddenly remembered particular scenes throughout their existence. He was faced with the feeling of tender touches and the feeling of home; her fingertips following and drawing the lines on his palm, always while they lay together in their shared bed during the early morning hours, before she would press a feathery kiss to it and laid his hand atop her cheek to close her eyes for only a few more minutes. He felt the adoration swirling through him, knew that he had craved those moments every morning—even after centuries, after eons of their loving routine.

And even now, after everything that had happened to both of them, Morpheus felt his heart jumping in his chest as YN let her fingers glide over the upwards-facing palm. He watched her as closely as she watched him, her touch moving over the tender skin of his wrist before they lost contact again due to the fabric parting her touches from him. The woman in front of him took a last step in the same heartbeat as he took his last step toward her, not holding back anymore.

His hands cupped her neck lovingly, his long, elegant fingers reaching to the back of her head, his thumbs tenderly brushing over the line of her jaw. In the same instance, YN had buried the fingers of her left hand into the fabric of his black coat while her right hand cupped his cheek, the pad of her thumb caressing the skin above his cheekbone. Their gazes were still connected, diving into the deep seas, yearning for every emotion swimming in those dark pools.

“Morpheus.”

Her unbelieving whisper of his name—as if it was a prayer—was his downfall. Without wasting another second, another breath, another heartbeat, the Lord of Dreams bent his head and eyes closed at the mere anticipation before their lips collided in softness and loving movements. The desperation and urgency needed to wait for a different moment in the confinements of their private rooms in the Dreaming. Their passion had never been secondary, they had always heavily indulged in it, even if the timing was anything except perfect, but now, neither of them could think about something more important as the realization that this wasn’t another dream—or nightmare—that this was reality instead.

The reassurance of this fact in the form of tender kisses they shared without stopping to take a deep breath was more than enough. But even they had to part at some point—foreheads softly pressed against one another, fingers tangled in silky strands, chests fitting perfectly together, eyes still closed, savoring this existence-altering moment.

“I thought…—” YN’s voice was quiet, breathless, filled with fear and agony. She didn’t need to complete the sentence because he figured what she was trying to say. So all he did first was move his head to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. “I am here,” he whispered against her skin, feeling her body relax under his hands. He would never leave her again or let her leave, even if he had to fight every single creature the world had to offer. “I… I am…” YN’s mumbling almost got lost between the shake of her voice and Morpheus wrapped his arms around her, pressed a hand to the small of her back while the other buried itself in her long curls, pulling her closer to his chest, enveloping his wife in the most protective hug. “Do not apologize. There is nothing to apologize for, love. I am just glad I have gotten you back, gotten another chance to spend eternity with you. I am beyond grateful to finally have you in my arms again where you belong, my dream.” His whispering was as tender as the leaves around them, and YN felt her heart flutter like an excited bird shortly before it rose into the sky at the sound of the endearment reserved explicitly for her.

YN let her eyes fall shut, savoring the long-missed and lost feeling of his incredibly soft lips, remembering the Afterlife filled with the same sensation but different all at once. It had been insipid; a weak, dull equivalent to his counterpart in reality, and she had missed him there even more fiercely as if it would have been the case if the Afterlife hadn’t been so cruel to her soul.

Her fingers tenderly caressed through his night black strands, hearing and feeling him sigh in utter contentment. “Morpheus,” she whispered his name again, this time with her lips almost at his—already touching them with every syllable of his name. “I told you I would find you.” The corner of her mouth slowly raised at his deep but quiet chuckle, feeling his arm wrapping tighter around her, pulling her even closer to him, if that was even possible. Their eyes met again after a short but equally as lovingly, and heartwarming kiss as the ones before, and the Lord of Dreams pushed a curl behind her ear, caressing her cheek with his knuckles. YN looked up to him almost pleadingly, even though they both knew that Morpheus could never refuse anything his wife asked of him.

“Bring me home.”

;

Morpheus had his eyes closed, breathing slowly, while every sensation was heightened, beginning with the familiar heavy feeling of her head lying on his shoulder and ending with the tickling touch of YN’s fingertips following slowly and reverently the lines in his right palm. They lay like this since they returned to the Dreaming, immediately strolling through the palace and into their rooms, ignoring everyone around them, only having eyes and a place in their minds for each other.

They had to wait if they wanted to see their queen again. It was his turn now.

“What happened?”

Her voice was as soft as it usually was but held an edge of curiosity and resentment. Her fingers didn’t stop even as YN turned her head to look up into his face, and the man opened his eyes to watch her, though he felt the memory rising behind his eyes and in the front of his mind, unable to unsee it. And she had a right to know.

His hand, which had rested on her bare shoulder where he had caressed her skin with tender strokes, moved up to her head and started to brush through her hair. It had always soothed him and his mind, and he felt relief flowing through him at the realization that it was still the case. “It took a century before I was able to escape, but… I could not leave without seeking vengeance for what he did. Not to me, but you.” YN was quiet, but her eyes told him she listened intently to his every word. So he continued. “My ruby brought him immortality for the time in his possession, and it was the first thing I took back from him. I watched him starting to wither in his sleep, knowing that his dream had changed with the sensation of something happening to him. I waited until he awoke, waited until he realized it was my doing, and watched with satisfaction the moment he realized his end was coming. I promised him eternal torture and started with it myself.”

Morpheus knew that he had been cruel to this human, but he also knew that he wasn’t as cruel as he should’ve been.

YN stopped caressing his palm, and the Endless watched her face, not moving his gaze, not even as he felt her hand move upwards to cup his jawline. He slowly let his eyes fall shut only at the feeling of her thumb brushing over the skin of his cheek, leaning his face into the touch he had longed for over a century. “I really thought I could save you, my love,” she whispered and leaned her forehead against the other side of his face, nuzzling her nose against the skin of his neck. Morpheus pressed a loving kiss to her hairline. “I know, my dream.” He fell silent for a moment before speaking up again—pain audible in his voice. “Do not dare and try it again. Will you promise me that? I cannot watch you die right in front of me again. I would not survive it.”

His queen softly pushed herself up with a hand resting on his chest, right above his strong beating heart. Her eyes—morphing from an emerald green to the shades of the morning sky after the night retreated—watched him with the softest expression while she nodded, barely visible. “Will you promise me not to find yourself in situations and positions which require my unintentional sacrifice again?” A smile started to tuck at the corner of his lips, and YN gently chuckled at the sight of it. “I will promise you that, my Queen,” Morpheus smiled nonetheless up at her, covering the hand still resting over his heart with his own.

He looked down at the missing feeling of something pressing against his palm. YN seemed to notice his changing expression and looked at her bare ring finger as well. “I woke up without it,” she whispered, sadness etched into her tone at the memory of the missing ring her husband had given her. It had been the most beautiful ring ever made, decorated with two beautiful gemstones—a dark blue sapphire, reminding her of his eyes, and the other the darkest emerald ever seen because it had been the color of her eyes at their first encounter. YN didn’t know where it vanished.

He got a hold of her bare hand and pressed her fingertips onto his lips to pepper gentle kisses on them. “I will make you a new one,” he vowed with the soft tone reserved entirely for her ears.

But he didn’t need to because only a moment after the words had left his mouth, a knock interrupted their peace and tranquillity. YN was quick on her feet and crossed the grand room to open the door, facing a wide-eyed Lucienne. “My Queen,” she bowed her head, but both women searched for their hands, and YN gently squeezed her friend’s fingers. “Lucienne,” she smiled, and the librarian couldn’t contain her smile as well. “I apologize for the intrusion, but Death found something I suspect you missed.” And with that, she opened her other hand in which laid, atop a velvet piece of fabric, her missing ring. “Where…?” Her friend only shrugged gently. “She didn’t tell us.” Nodding, YN took the ring and pressed it against her chest. “Thank you, Lucienne.” Her voice was laced with joy and longing, and the librarian bowed again. “I will leave you, but don’t hesitate to visit the library. The books miss you dearly.” With that, Lucienne turned and left, and the woman closed the door again and walked back to the bed with Morpheus still atop the covers.

She opened her hand after settling back on the mattress next to him, letting him see the ring resting on her palm, and the Lord of Dreams smiled down at it. He took the delicate jewelry between his fingers and slowly pushed it back into its place, back home on her finger, so everyone could see to whom she belonged—though nobody in the Dreaming needed a reminder of that.

“Welcome home,” Morpheus mumbled, lips against lips, and enveloped his wife once again in his loving embrace to hold her as close as possible, not thinking about letting her leave his arms anytime soon.

;

Okay, so, I hate the end, but I’m really bad at writing endings naturally, so we have to deal with this one. Hope y’all enjoyed it tho :3 As usual: Comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated! <3

[ofsappho]

Magindara

When invaders threaten your home, life, and people, you, a sirena, strike a desperate bargain with Dream of the Endless to save them all.

Dream of the Endless x mermaid!reader, one shot (for now)

Tags: war, gore, torture, death/murder, mentions of SA, slavery, things that generally come with colonialism

Inspired by the episode “Jibaro” from the Netflix show Love Death + Robots. This one shot draws heavily from Filipino mythology, culture, and history. I ENCOURAGE and INVITE people who don’t come from a Filipino background to read this story and enjoy! There is so much beauty to be had in cultures of color, for everyone. Just as I have read many stories steeped in Greek, Celtic, Norse, medieval England, etc cultures, without coming from those backgrounds, I humbly ask you do the same and entertain this little fic. Thank you. I may write a follow up if there’s interest. Glossary at the end.

-

From the banks of your river, you can hear the horses.

Metal plate clangs and screeches against itself, swords jostle in their sheaths, and shields bump where they rest on armored backs so loud that you want to scratch your sensitive ears out, just to make the sounds stop.

Your ates and kuyas hide deep below in the caverns known only to your kind. When you close your black eyes, you feel them tugging at the edges of your mind like little lights in the deep darkness of the sea. They believe that will be enough to save them.

Only you have braved the surface, because only you know what these strange men upon their strange beasts want.

They want the gold in the dark, fertile earth. You don’t understand why - it’s just shiny metal. Only the dwarves under the hills covet it. But the men who ravage your lands and your kin like wildfires, grasping everything and destroying it in the same breath, care very much. They want the never-dying orchids that line the banks and the brilliant emerald green vitality bursting from every leaf and vine that could keep a mortal alive for a thousand years. They want to feed their glory on your broken bodies. They want to take the people you protect for slaves, the women shamed and disgraced and the men subservient and humiliated.

You’ve seen it for yourself.

You’ve tasted the water of streams running red with blood, the iron like acid on your blue tongue.

You’ve swam farther and seen enough to make you hate. Families torn apart, children with their hair cut off and given names in an ugly language, forbidden to speak their own - the same language you speak. Fathers dragged onto large ships, larger than a butandíng, never to return. Altars burned. The men put your red sisters who live in the balete trees, their hair tangled with vines and lovely, fierce, flickering yellow eyes, to the flame. You witnessed their dying howls and curses for vengeance.

Some of the white-haired annani have already begun to clip their pointed ears, tear the crowns of flowers from their hair, and even cut out their tongues so as to lock away the magic these men desire, never to be spoken again. “There is no place for us,” Those tall, graceful elves told you. “We will be gone in a generation, by sword or by starvation.”

They’re coming.

The jungle is quiet as it has never been in a thousand years.

You could no more hide your tail, glittering blue and turquoise, with long, sweeping fins like ferns, than you could hide the long sweep of hair that reaches your waist, or the ink-black lines embedded on your skin, painting your face, your neck, and your arms with the story of your people and your home.

The calls that echoed from the depths of the river have stopped. It seems that your family has accepted that you won’t come back.

You look at your webbed hands, test your claws against your flesh. What is one magindara to a hundred conquistadors?

When the men spear you, they won’t just be slaughtering a mermaid. They’ll be killing the stories you keep. Centuries of stories. Countless names. Each pearl around your neck is a tribe, full of the old songs of grandmothers and the new rhymes of babies. You’re draped in thousands of shimmering strands of pearls.

You may not be the cleverest, or the most beautiful, or the one with the sweetest voice…

But you can be the bravest.

“Lord Morpheus,” You intone, frowning as the syllables ripple wrong and harsh from your throat.

You’ve never spoken to any of the gods beyond your islands before. “Dream of the Endless.” All you can do is hope and pray this one listens and comes to you in time. Will they be kind? Will it be merciful? Will he, or she, save your home?

Perhaps such a god does not exist at all, and you are praying to wind and sunlight, and soon your guts will color the cerulean water purple and black. The strange men will defile your body, no doubt. A week ago, you crawled from your river to cut down the corpse of a long-gone ate from a stake, jagged holes ripped into the tail of her corpse that made you vomit and her dead eyes full of pain.

Once you’d laid her to rest in the water, she dissolved into nothing. “Prince of Stories,” You sing. That is what faces everything you’ve ever loved if you fail.

“I beg you, save us. Save our stories, our dreams. We call for your aid.”

The men bark at each other. Any moment now, they’ll see you, your hands raised and your face tipped towards the heavens, inky flowers blooming on your forehead and cheeks and crocodile teeth tattooed on the sharp line of your jaw.

A new quiet falls over the world. Like nighttime, when things are resting, not dead.

You have called, and I answer.

A being stands on the banks of your river in the shape of a man. His hair is blacker than Bakunawa’s maw and his eyes are filled with gold and silver stars brighter than any you’ve seen before. His pale skin carries no markings.

He is as grotesquely, menacingly beautiful as the razor’s edge of shark teeth, as a great python curling in a tree, as an eagle with its claws stuck in the beating, bleeding heart of a monkey.

You feel the weight of his gaze on your brow heavier and hotter than the sun on the longest day of summer, burning out the truth in your heart. “I would bargain with you, Dream Lord. For my people, and my land, and my home, which I love more than my own life.”

What would you have me do? When Lord Morpheus speaks, his voice pours through your mind ringing like the purest, clearest freshwater.

The many jewels around your throat, pearls, sapphires, rubies, diamonds, plates of beaten gold, click as you swallow nervously.

The dream king stands so tall that he could touch the sky if he reached up. And he doesn’t look away or blink. You can’t read the inhuman planes of his face whatsoever, you can’t find any familiar sign in his long limbs that might bring comfort. For all you know, you’ve spelled your doom.

“Keep them alive. Keep our names and spirits alive. Bring our stories into your kingdom so that we won’t be forgotten. That is what the men want. They want to raze us to the ground and rebuild the world in their image but we will not go.” You pause. “We will never, ever go,” You growl, fierce and deadly, around a mouth full of fangs. In your words you pour the horrors you’ve seen, combined with the beauty surrounding the two of you.

The hot, muggy air, the warm rain, the scent of night-blooming jasmines. Orange mangoes, bursting with sweetness, bamboo sticks clacking as joyful youths dance in and out of them, laughing gaily. Rolling drums. Bright feathers tucked into black hair. A toddling child reaching out to her grandmother with a chubby-cheeked smile, pressing the back of the withered, ancient hand against her little forehead. Love, so much love.

I have not walked these lands before.

You found traces of Lord Morpheus scribbled in the margins of paper and in the back alleys of lost dreams. Your last and only hope.

When you went to Diyan Masalanta, she wept and showed how the soldiers bound her hands. When you cried out to her brother, Apolaki, the sun god called back and said the invaders took his shield.

Bathala is gone. Mayari is gone. Lakapati is dead. The conquistadors stripped her naked, cut her ribs from her chest, and planted her bones in the fields they set their slaves, your people, to work.

“They say you are Endless. You preside over all beings in all places. Please, I beg you, preside over us. Are we not worthy of your favor? Do we not deserve to live in your dreams and nightmares?”

If Lord Morpheus refuses you, you’ll cut your throat before you let your enemies have you.

He tilts his head like he can hear your thoughts. One shining hand stretches out, almost as if to touch your face. You sing prettily, little siren. You draw back with a start. Why is there hunger in his voice? A hollow, all-consuming, terrifying hunger?

You know what it feels like to starve when the fish are scarce. This is leagues away, a typhoon to your trickle of rain. Shadows bloom under his hollowed cheeks. His pupils eclipse his brilliant aquamarine irises.

He’s-

He’s aching.

Morpheus flashes his bone-white teeth as he bends at the waist to examine you further. His gaze traces your tattoos, your large, frightened eyes, and your body beneath the necklaces and bracelets.

As scared as you are, as convinced that you’ll bleed the instant his fingers brush your blue-streaked skin, your numb lips move.

“I vow to you now, Lord Morpheus, before every god and being I know, that should you render us this aid, I will give you anything within my power to grant that you wish.”

Anything?

“Name it, my lord, and it shall be yours.” With that, your eyes flutter shut as you await his judgment.

You can’t hide from him, even in your mind. You don’t see him, but you feel a straining pressure build where he prods at you, pushing on the fragile edges of your being like he’s cracking a duck egg. He claws and scrapes until-

I will aid your people.

You open for him like a sampaguita flower. Dream of the Endless picks through your soul like he’s picking blossoms, you feel how much he wants with every brush, every long moment where he sticks his fingers in and relishes the feel of you. Nothing has ever touched you like this before.

He’s on his knees on the riverbank, the dark soil pressing into his clothes. His hands clench the rocky edge of the bank. Your wet hair sticks to your back as you rise up, close enough that you can count his night-black eyelashes. There’s a dizzying amount of them.

“Thank you. Thank you. Salamat-po. And your price, majesty?”

You’ll do whatever he wants. Does his thirst demand souls? You’ll harvest them by the dozen. You can picture Lord Morpheus unhinging his jaw, swallowing those soldiers whole. Their swords wouldn’t even scrape him going down. Riches? You have no use for them if you’re dead. He can take every speck of wealth to be had.

You. I want you.

Your sisters and brothers wail. They sense the foreign king tearing at the flesh binding you together. They feel him taking a knife to your indigo heart and cutting it loose from your body. Your head tilts back as you gasp for breath and see him hold the organ aloft. Dark blood trails in rivulets down his wrists.

“I-“

There are no creatures like you in my realm. So I shall have you, in every way that I wish, and you’ll obey. Those are my terms.

Your tail lashes in the water as if you fight hard enough, you can swim away. The cavity pulses with searing, unholy pain. You’ve made a mistake. You’ve summoned- He is an aswang, a devil, a soul-eater, you’ll never see your home again, you’ll never touch the water you’ve known since birth.

Lord Morpheus brings your heart to his mouth. His lips are beautifully-formed. You can’t find it in yourself to hate such a wondrous creature. Even your amethyst ichor looks more beguiling when he’s covered in it.

It was never a question. “Yes, my lord. I accept these terms.”

His white teeth stain purple when he sinks them into your heart.

-

Glossary:

Ate (ah-tey) - sister

Kuya (koo-yah) - brother

Butandíng - whale shark

Balete tree - very cool large tree native to Southeast Asia

Annani - elves from the stories of the Ibanag people, who look like humans with pointed ears. They are kind guardians of the forest and often share healing knowledge with humans if treated with respect.

Magindara - mermaids from the folklore of the Bicolano people. Beautiful half human, half fish guardians of rivers/streams/lakes/the oceans, who sing to lure fisherman and warriors to their death but leave children unharmed.

Bakunawa - a great mythic serpent and god/goddess of darkness. Various myths place Bakunawa responsible for eclipses.

Diyan Masalanta - Tagalog goddess of love, war, childbirth

Apolaki - Tagalog god of the sun and war, patron saint of warriors, soldiers, modern day patron saint of Filipino traditional martial arts (Kali/eskrima/arnis) practitioners

Bathala - the Tagalog supreme creator god

Mayari - the Tagalog goddess of the moon, war, revolution, and justice. She fought her brother Apolaki for dominion over the heavens.

Lakapati - the Tagalog goddess of fertility, food, bounty, balance, and prosperity. She represents both male and female and has both male and female genitalia. Patron saint of queer/trans people.

Sampaguita - the Filipino name for sambac jasmine, the national flower of the Philippines

Salamat-po (sah-lah-maht poh) - thank you (utmost respect) in Tagalog

Aswang - overall name for the malicious/demonic/monstrous beings in Filipino folklore. Vampires, zombies, ghouls, organ eaters, cannibals.

I hope you guys liked this! Let me know if you have any questions or want to read more from this.

[undiscovered-horizon]

I finished reading the last chapter for Imagine being the one who releases Morpheus, and it was good. Though I wouldn't be opposed to seeing an alternate ending where the Reader lives with Morpheus in the Dreaming and they get their happy ending.

Imagine being the one who releases Morpheus - ALTERNATIVE ENDING

[Check out the full series] | Sandman-inspired playlist | 🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀

[...]

"Hugo!" you exclaimed. Unable to stop yourself from reaching for the missed pet, you crouched the moment you saw his red fur. "I never thought I'd see you again, you little fiery menace! I was barely six when we bid our farewells."

The feline only meowed again and bumped its small head against your leg. Curiously, he didn't leave paw prints on the white, cold sand. Too busy at the exciting reunion, you never noticed Death's slightly furrowed eyebrows as she stared at the cat. What was it doing there?

Scratching Hugo's chin and head, you noticed something strange about his pendant: it didn't read 'Hugo' anymore, although you knew it did the day he passed away. Instead of his name gracing the small metal plate, there were tally marks - seven, to be exact. You could only wonder what kind of trouble that fearless, silly friend had gotten into since the last time you saw him.

"Seven already?" you asked the pet despite not expecting him to answer. "You have two more left, my friend. Use them wisely."

But Hugo only stared at you with his big, yellowish-green eyes. He sat on the pavement on the boulevard and meowed loudly but not at you:

"You can't keep doing this, Hugo," Death warned the cat as if the deafening meow could actually mean something else than a cry for attention. He only whined again, the tip of his tail moved slightly as though it was a snake ready to pounce. "Alright, one last time."

The orange tabby got up from the cold pavement and trotted towards Morpheus who was still sitting on the white sand with your corpse leaning against him. Perhaps, when his grief subdues he'd realize the awful macabre of that moment but for now, he was drawing out the sensation of something he will never feel again.

Out of the corner of his eye, Morpheus noticed an orange, furry cat. There was a certain excitement or curiosity to its trot. It stopped by your leg, or rather your body's leg, and nuzzled against it, purring ever so loudly. At first, he wanted to chase it away, to stop some flea-bitten stray from touching you but he found himself unable to do anything. Each of his limbs was so weighty, he couldn't move even if he had wanted to. Perhaps his heart was too heavy now for Morpheus to ever leave his spot on the white, cold sand by the murky seawater. In some way, he didn't even want to move: there was no place he could go where this hole inside him would become full again.

You watched the scene from afar until a strange feeling took over your form. Ghosts aren't supposed to experience bodily sensations, are they? Suddenly, a freezing coldness embraced you. A tingling ran through your fingertips but you couldn't move them anymore.

"What's happening?" you asked nervously as you stared at your disappearing hands. Is this what death truly is? A human-shaped mist that dissolves into oblivion?

"Hugo and his charity," Death answered in a tone both fascinated and tired.

It took merely a blink of an eye for you to find yourself back on the white sand and not standing on the concrete boulevard. A hungered, desperate gasp ripped out of your chest, clearly startling Morpheus, who hadn't moved even by an inch.

For a moment, the two of you were looking at each other as if you were seeing your faces for the very first time, surprised at the unforeseen meeting. "How is this possible?" Dream asked in a wavering voice. His eyes were still red but he was no longer crying. Perhaps, he already couldn't.

Hugo forced his pleasantly fluffy head underneath your palm. You looked towards him only to notice something fascinating yet odd: instead of seven tally marks on his pendant, there were eight - he only had one more life left. But by looking at Hugo, you also saw your own hand that he so frantically brushed against. There were no marks on your skin, no sign of a terrifying curse counting your days short.

"The thing about kindness, my lovely Morpheus," you spoke as you turned to look at him again but not in surprise this time; your gaze remained ever so kind and loving, just the way he deserved, "is that it always comes back."

Barely finishing your sentence, you felt his lips touch yours. His skin felt strangely cold but in an unpleasant way. To think you would have left without ever feeling it! Morpheus's kiss was the loudest confession he could have given you, filled with passion and desperation you had never felt before. In that impulsive moment of intimacy, he ripped himself open for you to see.

Cold winter wind brushed against your lips when he pulled away. His face, however, remained at a flustering close distance. "Then let me return yours," he whispered.

Dream's hand firmly grabbed yours. Once again, a tornado of sand circled the two of you. What was once a small town of Southend-on-sea, became a gigantic palace, a true castle, of marble halls and crystal ceilings. It looked nostalgic in its unbearable emptiness as if it had been forgotten by its rightful master, forever haunted by dreams of tomorrows that never came.

To your collective surprise, a quiet meow echoed through the spacious palace. Sure enough, an orange hitchhiker revealed himself. "I did not invite you," Morpheus spoke in a stern voice.

But Hugo paid no attention to the Lord of Dreaming. With his tail standing up straight, he wandered off.

Watching the fiery cat disappear around the corner, undoubtedly on his way to wreak havoc in Dream's kingdom, you recalled the strange moment that preceded your miraculous resurrection. "There's one thing about Hugo I can't quite understand. He brushed against my legs but he is alive and I was a ghost. It makes me think about all the occasions when he meowed or stared at empty corners in my father's mansion. I wonder what he saw there - who he saw there."

As if hearing his own name being mentioned, the cat made its existence known: Jessamy shrieked loudly in the distance.

"Speaking of wonders," Morpheus began as he meaningfully extended his elbow towards you. Without hesitation, you grabbed it. "You should see your new home."

He led you through the palace halls of light and pastel colours. The high ceilings made you think of a cathedral but Morpheus never once appeared to you as a creature that demanded worship. The grandiosity of his home was undoubtedly regal, even emanated appropriate coldness. The spaciousness created a sharp-sounding, loud echo that made you constantly feel like you should look over your shoulder to check for an unwanted follower. In some strange way, you suspected the interior of his palace was a genuine representation of Dream's heart: pearly and crystal, waiting to be inhabited but turning unwelcoming in its involuntary emptiness.

After a long while of walking in silence, you decided to speak up about something that's been bothering you throughout the entire chateau. "Can I share a reflection about the decor?"

Morpheus turned his face to you. "Do you not like it?" he asked with a hint of surprise in his voice.

"It's quite bleak if I may say so." Maybe he was the lord of this place but if you were to take him up on his offer of Dreaming being your new home, you had to be honest with him. And, just maybe, he could do with a little change too. "The hall could use some bold colours... Poinsettias, perhaps? Yes, they'd look lovely in here."

And suddenly, his every thought was sprouting poinsettias.

And here's the happy ending!

Tagging people who were interested in a follow-up: @rosaren2498 @jessiboobdbdb @chantzmar @lexi-anastasia @bisexualunicronrunningloose @farintonorth @oo0lady-mad0oo@all-bi-myselfs-blog @piperstofu101 @magic-magnoliaa @kotonei-molyneux @wheresmyboo @supermegapauselouca @sloanexx @rockergirl57 @aizawa-emma @ruyi-years @commanderfreethatdust @sapphireonline @izzicle@mxxny-lupin @shadowluna25 @aralezinspace

[fadingsnow]

THE DREAMING - DREAM x f! reader (it's BARELY at all, i'll make a part two probably)

SUMMARY AND TW: Somehow, you had dreamt into the dreaming after a long night of research, Fiddler Green's page transported you into the Dreaming itself.

divider credits : @firefly-graphics

You rubbed your eyes groggily while trying to balance yourself up instead of falling asleep on your arms that felt like rubber. You huffed loudly, grateful for the fact it was only you and the librarian in there. It was too late for anyone to enter anyway. You looked up and noticed the time was 12 am. Oh. 5 hours learning about the Sandman wasn't as bad compared to the morning when you took 2 hours, not much of a difference. The first day of your research, and you still couldn't find anything. You were led on a tale, determined to find the golden end. It had all started when you had finally returned back home.

-

You hesistantly walked around the house, the steps creeking when you walked up to the sound of ruckus coming from your childhood bedroom. Your parents had decided to renovate the house, "too old for their taste." You couldn't really disagree, some parts of the floor weren't even there. You slowly opened the door to find your father mumbling to himself incoherent words, as all of your belongings as a child were spread out on the floor.

"Dad.. You good?" You hesistantly called out to the old man who now wore wrinkles, the dark eyebags under his eyes that still held a twinkle of knowledge and wisdom as he always did, not even age could change that. His face held a nostalgic look, his stare glued to the books across the room, clothes you wore in your plays at school.

"Of course, kid. Just wondering how I'll be able to change this room." His voice was sombre, a soft tone coming along with it.

"Are you serious? No actual way - you kept this?" You had tried to focus on something more joyous, then your eyes landed on The Sandman. Your favourite book, you'd force your dad to read it to you every night when he tucked you into bed.

"How could I not? I remember you fussing to your mom how you'd stay awake the whole night unless we read the book to you. I mean, the amount of times she told you the Sandman would come and give you horrible dreams if you didn't behave was astonishing." He let out an amused laugh, his arms clutching his stomach.

"Right.." Your eyes spaced out, how come you had never noticed such intricate designs on it? The gold linings, the big letters in some type of medieval font you'd see in a tv show, and a piercing description of the Sandman as a man with shoulder length hair, pale skin, and a long black cloak.

"Where did you get it?" You murmured, out of your daze.

"I actually don't remember, I think it was your mother's as a child. Her grandma gave it to her.. You know, on a whim, her friend had given it to her. I forgot her name, something Constantine.." He took some time to ponder about the memory of the book.

"I suppose it's quite old than, isn't it?" You ran your hands over the book, the rough edges hurting your hand. Getting caught off guard caused you to drop the book. The last page fell out, before you could look at it, your dad called out to you.

"I think you have to leave now! It's time for the workers to come and start now! Just go pick up the things you want to keep!"

You hurriedly picked up your things that you used to cherish, and slipped the book into your bag that you held close to you the whole time in the car ride to your apartment.

-

You pulled the page out of your bag, inquistive to know what secrets it might have held.

You squinted your eyes to look at it further, how come you never came across this page as a child? It didn't make sense, you read this book front to back, probably a thousand times. Your eyes widened at the visual description of beings who resided in a realm, The Nightmare Realms or rather the Dreaming.

That was the caption under a brilliant flourish of colors used to paint multiple places that looked like anything in your most impossible dreams. You hummed to yourself, the song Mr. Sandman coming to your mind.

"The realm of the Dreaming is ruled by Dream of the Endless, one of the seven Endless. From him came the realm in which all go to when they fall asleep, he has created nightmares, or dreams to help conduct the humans' lives, making them face their fears or dreams. It is because of this realm, humans are also able to face themselves. Now, what about the king himself? He's a fair ruler, he has to be. None of us can change our place or purpose, his own brother Destiny is sure of that."

You raised your eyebrow at this? This is a new spin of the story, you'd never heard this before. The author spoke as though they were real beings, real place. You chuckled to yourself. What if you dreamt there? Would that even be possible.. if it existed? Could you go through those beautiful places, and that library looked so large!

"He goes by many different forms and names according to the person. ONEIROS, MORPHEUS, SANDMAN, MURPHY, THE SHAPER OF FORM, KAI'CKUL, LORD OF THE DREAMING, THE DREAM KING, DREAM-SNEAK, THE DREAM- CAT, LORD Z'ORIL, KING OF THE RIDDLE REALMS, LORD OF THE DREAM WORLD, PRINCE OF STORIES, MONARCH OF THE SLEEPING MARCHES, HIS DARKNESS, THE DREAMWEAVER, THE NIGHTMARE KING, DREAM-CREATURE, THE SHAPER OF DREAMS, SULTAN OF SLEEP."

Now your interest certainly peeked, you never knew there could be such information and detail on a simple story parents told to kids to make them behave. There was such complex characteristics to detail someone that used sand to bring light-hearted dreams. Although, you wonder where he could have possibly gone when millions of people went to sleep around the world. Maybe, he had just decided, why not let humans be engulfed in dreams forever? Nonetheless, your focus went back to the page.

"He can walk through dreams, create them, but also break them. He has been through every human's dreams, as he is much of the Dreaming as it is him. An anthropomorphic personification is what he is. Being an essence and a form at the same time, that is the power he holds. No mere human can even dare to imagine the capability he has. He is the King of Dreams, hopefully he may grant you a good dream, little dreamer. Dream a little dream of him." - Fiddler's Green, your giver

When you read the last line, your head started to feel dizzy, as if someone was reorganzing your mind. You ignored it, who could Fiddler's Green be? Maybe someone from a few centuries ago who decided to write a good book? This seemed too.. realistic though. You had to atleast learn something, calm the earthquake emerging in your very being. Those words had moved your soul too much, like it was all real.

You rummaged through the books, ignoring the glares you received from others at the library. You had more important things to do then them, for sure. Except most people weren't trying to find out if the Sandman actually existed, or the Dreaming. The weird stare you got from the librarian when you mentioned the Sandman made you feel a little too self-conscious.

"The Sandman? My mom used to tell me that he'd give me nightmares if I wasn't good!"

You rolled your eyes slightly, you knew there had to be something. Who could write so much about something that didn't exist? If you told yourself four days ago that you were looking for remnants of the Sandman's existence, you'd laugh at yourself.

After five hours, you'd finally noticed the time was 12 am, it wouldn't be that bad to fall asleep, now would it? After all, it's a 24 hour library.. Maybe you could even dream of the splendid palace you saw in the illustrations.. Maybe you could-..

You easily plopped your head down against the table, your arms wrapping around your head, deep in a state of sleep. Although, it seemed you were having a normal dream, it was beyond that.

You looked around your surroundings, trying to make sure that you were actually there.

"No actual fuc-" You almost started to scream, when you saw a women come up to you.

Her smooth dark skin, her glasses, no. No. It couldn't be. Could it?

"You're Lucienne. No, see my subconscious is making this up, yeah! There's just no way-"

Her expression showed how alarmed she was.

"How did you know my name, and why are you in the Dreaming? You're a mortal. Aren't you..?" Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, as if Delirium visited her, causing her to hallucinate you right infront of her.

"Well, I'll entertain this because this is a dream, even though I'm not supposed to fricking control myself in a dream! So you see, I just so happened to stumble across one of my favorite books as a kid, and some random person's page. Fiddler's Green, it was. Oh, and then I tried researching any of the information in there, but none! I just fell asleep." You spoke really fast, Lucienne was barely able to catch up with you.

Her face changed when she heard the name, Fiddler's Green.

"Did you just say Fiddler's Green?"

"Yeah..?"

"Are you serious?" She mumbled to herself, "What was the name of that book?"

You didn't think anything could happen, after all, it was just a dream. "The Sandman."

"How come I've never seen that book?" She murmured to herself again, her eyes roaming around the vast books across probably the largest library ever.

"T.. T.. T.. T.." She started to walk to the sections of books by letters, and you hurriedly followed her, you found a new type of energy within your dream.

"Th.. The.. Sandman?" She looked at you somewhat accusingly, but it quickly shaked off.

"Now what page is it?"

"The last." You said hesistantly, know starting to feel a little weary even though you knew you'd never forget such a place in your life.

"You were right.. Fiddler's Green did this.. Why though? To spread the hope of the Dreaming?" A fond smile grew on her face as she ran her fingers over the page, just like you did. The exact drawings of her, and others in the Dreaming on the page.

"But." She shut the book closed.

"We need to take care of you. How come I didn't sense a presence not of the Dreaming in its own realm? We should seek the conference of the King of Dreams himself."

She called for a name, "Morpheus!" Immediately, you could feel the ground slightly shake, as you appeared in a throne room, one with windows that held the most luminous colors you had ever seen. The throne seemed so enticing, you could imagine yourself sitting there. Except, somebody already has.

"The Sandman.." His name fell from your lips with a whisper and a small gasp. Beings like these weren't supposed to exist. His impassive face was just like in his painting. His jet black hair, down to the black robe. It was him. He was real all along, the Monarch of the Sleeping Marches. You couldn't even hide your surprise or fascination as Lucienne held your arm to keep you steady from falling on the ground.

"Lucienne. Have you brought me a mortal?" His voice brought you fear, but interest. It echoed against the high walls, a hoarse and penetrating voice.

"Yes, she stumbled into the library, she knows who we are. All of us, the Dreaming, everything. Fiddler's Green wrote a book on you, and on the last page.. I only wanted to share my theory with you, but I believe she has been tied to the Dreaming.. as one of it's own."

"What..?" His calm and steady voice rang out.

"As one of it's own.. Did you say?"

"Yes, but-"

"Give me the page, Lucienne." He said her name with a harsh tone, even though she hadn't done anything. You stayed quiet during the matter, not wanting to bring attention to yourself even though it was about you. After all, all you did was read the page.

Lucienne went up the steps, which seemed to take some time. She handed the page that was stuffed in her pocket.

He held the crinkled page to look at it, if he had any care for how the life of the Dreaming were revealed to a mortal, or how beautiful it was, he didn't show it at all.

His eyes didn't let go of the last line.

Dream a little dream of him." - Fiddler's Green, your giver

Had his own creation forgotten how powerful their own words were? Fiddler's Green had made a promise, as a dream himself, he promised to make you a part of the Dreaming aswell when he called himself your giver. He gave you a part of the Dreaming, now you were stuck. Every night when you would dream, you'd be in the Dreaming. You were now a resident, he supposed.

He looked at you hard one last time, inadvertently, he couldn't change what happened. Fiddler's Green promise had already been made, even if he got rid of the page, it couldn't change it.

Now, you were one of them.